Shattered
by corruptedPOV
Summary: When Tom's wife suddenly leaves him, Danny, Harry and Dougie find that all was not well in the Fletcher household, and that the scars left behind may never fade.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my new fic, thank you for clicking on it. But before you start, this fic comes with a big trigger warning. This fic is about emotional abuse. In this fic, Tom was put through an emotionally abusive marriage for years, and this is all about his recovery from that. There will be no physical abuse mentioned or written about, but this does heavily deal with the aftermath of emotional abuse.**

* * *

Danny's POV

"Hey Harry, have you or Doug heard from Tom recently?" I asked, hoping they had. I hadn't heard from him for several days, and I was getting worried. Tom hadn't been... _all there_ recently, I guess you could say. I wanted to know that he was okay.

"Erm, no, I can't say I have. Give me a sec," there was some rustling, "Oi Doug! Heard from Tom recently?"

"No, why?" was the muffled reply from the other end of the phone.

"That's a no from Doug, if you didn't hear that. Why are you asking? He not picking up for you either?" Harry didn't sound as worried as I hoped he would be. This wasn't like Tom; none of this was like Tom. He always replied, he was always there, he was just... he was a constant. He hadn't been constant; he'd been so distant and quiet. This wasn't right, something was terribly wrong.

"No he isn't, I've rung and texted him, and I've gotten nothing back. I think... I think he's in trouble." Saying it out loud made me feel sick, Tom couldn't be in trouble, he was _Tom_. He was never in trouble. He was _always_ okay.

"Yeah, this isn't like him. Alright, let's meet at Tom's house, see if he's in. He could just be a bit busy with Buzz or something." Harry suggested, I hoped that was the case and it was nothing worse.

Not long later, we were all convened outside Tom's house, and I didn't think any of us had ever been so hesitant in knocking on the door.

"Maybe he's just a bit ill, or busy with Buzz, and we're worrying over nothing." Dougie tried to sound upbeat, it just sounded nervous.

"Possibly, but we have to make sure. He's not been himself recently, we have to check." I didn't mention that Tom's wife could have replied for him. I didn't exactly trust her to do it, I didn't know why, but there was _something_ about her that just didn't ring true to me. And her car wasn't in the driveway, so she clearly wasn't here.

I knocked on the door, not getting a reply. I knocked again. No answer again. I had rung the doorbell, no reply.

But wait, what was that? Was that... was that _Buzz_ crying in there? I could hear something faint, it sounded a bit like a baby crying.

That was enough for me to stop messing about, I shoved my keys in the door and unlocked it, racing inside, hearing the baby's cries clearer now.

Skidding to a stop in the bedroom, I found Buzz sitting on the floor, huge sobbing cries coming from him, his hands reaching out instantly for me.

"Oh honey, it's okay, I'm here now, I'm here." I picked him up, holding him close and trying to shush him.

"Where's your dad Buzz? Where did he go?" there was no sign of him at the moment, but Tom would have _never_ left Buzz here by himself. He barely wanted to leave the room without his son in tow; he wouldn't just _leave_ him like this.

"She, she left. She was... she was so _angry_ and she left." A voice whispered, I whirled round, finding Tom, curled into a ball in the corner, he looked _so_ broken. Broken and pale, too thin in his pyjamas, and he clearly hadn't moved in at least a day.

"I-I'm sorry. She just... she left. I-I couldn't stop her. She, she left me. She left us."


	2. Chapter 2

**Rut - :D**

1 Tom's POV

She, she left. A-And I didn't... I couldn't... I didn't know what to do. There was... she kept things running. She made sure I did things right. Without her I didn't know... I couldn't do... what was I supposed to do?

Buzz hadn't stopped crying, and I didn't know what to do. I hadn't been able to calm him down, I didn't know how. I had tried, but it hadn't worked. She'd been so angry at me for it, had screamed louder than he had. Said some cruel things, cruel, true things. Things that I was proving more so now.

"Tom? Tom what happened? Are you okay?" Danny knelt down in front of me. Why was he here? I hadn't called him. Hadn't called anyone. She certainly hadn't either. She didn't like my band mates, and really didn't like them coming round so often.

"I, I'm sorry, I don't. She, she left and I don't know what to do." I couldn't do this, not without her. I couldn't do anything. She kept me on track, made sure I was doing things right. Without her I forgot and did so many things wrong. I couldn't do this by myself. I couldn't do anything by myself.

"She left? What do you mean she left?" Harry asked, also kneeling. Buzz was crying, clinging to Danny. I had made him cry, and didn't stop him, didn't calm him down. I was already failing him oh God I was already failing him. I didn't want to fail him, had never wanted to fail him like this, not so often, and definitely not like this. He only had me, I had to be better but I couldn't be better I didn't know how to be better!

"She, she left, b-because..." _because of me,_ I couldn't admit to it though. Didn't want everyone to know how much of a failure I was. I didn't want them to leave me too. Didn't want Buzz taken from me either. I needed, I needed them, I needed them all. I had nothing, I was nothing without them. I couldn't do anything without them all, I couldn't do anything _with_ them either but I really couldn't do anything without them.

"Alright, we can talk about this later. Right now, are either of you hurt?" Danny asked, I shook my head. We weren't hurt. Buzz hadn't hurt himself. That I was sure of. He had always been in the room with me. He hadn't left. I knew he hadn't left. He wasn't hurt. I didn't know what he was but he wasn't hurt. But he was screaming, screaming so much. Screaming and crying and wasn't stopping and I didn't know how to make him stop! I never could but now I really couldn't and he wasn't stopping, why wasn't he stopping?!

"Okay, okay, that's good." Danny nodded with me, "When was the last time you two ate? We'll eat and you'll feel a lot better." He pulled me up; I wobbled on my feet, nausea taking over. The room span.

"Whoa there Tom, seriously when was the last time you ate? Or slept for that matter?" Harry pulled me into his arms, keeping me upright. Everyone crowded in closely, even Buzz. He was still crying, crying so hard. He was so distressed, I couldn't stop him!

"I, I don't know." I didn't know anything. I didn't know how long it had been, or what had happened. I'd just... we had argued, and she had been _so angry,_ and she'd left. She'd left and hadn't come back.

I couldn't remember anything else. We'd been alone, and Buzz hadn't stopped crying and I didn't know what to do. I never knew what to do! He hadn't stopped for days, I'd tried and tried, but he couldn't stop. He never stopped crying!

"Try to remember Tom, it's important." Harry encouraged me, as Danny managed to calm Buzz enough for him to stop crying so much.

"I, I can't." my head was spinning, the whole world was spinning. Nothing made sense. Everything was blurring, I couldn't concentrate, couldn't remember. I was... I couldn't keep my eyes open.

"Whoa, no, no Tom don't pass out! Don't pass out of us!" I heard from someone, but I couldn't stay awake. Everything was spinning too hard, I felt too sick. Nothing made sense, and the darkness was so inviting.

The last thing I remembered was feeling hands grab for me as I fell towards the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

2 Harry's POV

As soon as Tom collapsed, we set to work, phoning an ambulance and following the operators instructions, making sure he could breathe and wasn't in danger of somehow making himself worse. Buzz starting crying harder at the sight, and Danny desperately tried to calm him down again to no avail. The poor kid would _not_ calm down. Even watching the ambulance drive in front of our car, sirens on, wasn't helping, and he _loved_ cars.

Buzz only calmed down once we had all been settled into the hospital and he'd been fed some food, and the only reason why he actually stopped crying was because he cried himself _out._ He actually cried himself to sleep, or at least cried himself into an exhausted sleep. I was glad he wasn't awake right now; I couldn't imagine how scary it must be for him, to see Tom laying on that hospital bed, a drip in his hand, not moving and pale.

It was terrifying as an adult, seeing Tom look like that. But being a child, and seeing your _dad_ look like that? It must have been the worst sight in the world. Especially if your mum wasn't around to look after you at the same time. We didn't even know where she had gone, all we knew that she was gone.

"So you are sure you have no idea what's just happened recently? Or have any on Tom's activities over the past few days?" The doctor asked us after tests had been run.

"We don't have a clue; we tried contacting him a few times, but never got an answer, that's why we went round." I explained, I was the only one really keeping a level head right now. Danny was desperately clinging to a sleeping Buzz, and an unconscious Tom's hand, chewing through his lip. Dougie was staring at Tom in that way he did when he scared for one of us. Like he wanted to hug the person in trouble so hard and never let go, touch them all over until he was sure that they weren't hurt, not even a bruise.

"He kept on saying she was gone. He kept on saying it." Danny whispered, still staring at Tom, "She left, and he was sorry."

"Yeah, he didn't seem all that... with it. Or like he knew really the answer to anything. He wasn't forming sentences." I continued for him, the doctor looked thoughtful for a few minutes.

"Do you mean his speech was slurred, or like he wasn't finishing them?" he asked.

"He wasn't finishing sentences, he kept on trailing off. He was speaking clearly though." I was sure he'd been speaking clearly.

"Alright, well at the moment, from what you've said and our tests, it seems that your friend is suffering from a simple lack of nutrition. From what we can tell, he hasn't eaten in at least a day, if not two. It's going to cause some confusion, dizziness and passing out." The doctor explained with a kind smile, "As for why, well I'm guessing this is stemming from his wife leaving. Does she leave him often?"

"No, not really. We leave a lot though, for tours and stuff. So that shouldn't have been a problem." I answered; Tom was always fine going out with us. It wasn't anything unusual for us. And whenever she left before, Tom had always been fine.

"Alright, well I think this will have to be explored more when Tom wakes up, as he will have more answers for us. Right now, it's best to let him rest and recover. I'll send a nurse to check his vitals regularly, and I'll be back when he's awake to ask a few questions. Is there anyone who can look after... Buzz, is it?" he asked, nodding to the sleeping baby.

"Us. We can look after him." Danny clutched him tighter to him.

"Okay, do you look after him regularly then?" the doctor looked suspicious.

"Every time he comes with us on tour, and whenever we go over to Tom's, or Tom comes to ours. We're always around him, he knows us well, and knows that we mean safety and love." I promised, Buzz wasn't being taken from us too. We could look after him just fine, we weren't about to let him out of our sight. Look what had happened to Tom when we looked away for a minute.

"Alright, well if you need anything, for any of you, please do not hesitate to ask the nurses, they'll be happy to help." He smiled, turning to leave.

Which left us alone, with an unconscious Tom, not knowing what the _hell_ had happened to him.


	4. Chapter 4

3 Dougie's POV

Tom laid there, absolutely still, for so long. I only knew that he was alive because I could see him breathing. It was the only part of him moving, the rest of him was so still. It was so scary to see, I had no idea how he could lay so still and not react to anything.

"What the hell happened to him?" I whispered, scared to even consider what had happened. He hadn't eaten in days, hadn't slept, and she had left. Was it connected? But surely Tom could deal with her being gone for a few days.

Though, none of us could get hold of her, when we rung her phone, the call went straight to voice mail. Was something more going on? Had she _actually_ gone? But why would she go? Why would she go like that? That didn't make sense...

"Did she leave for good? But why would she do that?" I didn't understand why she'd do that, they seemed so happy together. They'd seemed so happy, what could have gone so wrong, if anything had gone wrong? It was strange, it didn't seem right, they'd been happy. Just last week they'd been so happy together. I was sure of it, I'd seen them laughing and joking together, just like always.

Tom had looked a bit thin then though, and a bit too pale. Could that have been an indicator for something being wrong? But damn it what the _hell_ had been wrong?! What the hell had happened here?!

"She... I don't know. It doesn't make sense. None of it does." Harry squeezed my hand, before passing everyone a sandwich each, "Eat, at least some of us need some energy."

"Unlike Tom." Danny sighed, feeding a bit to Buzz, who didn't have a clue about what was going on, but was luckily distracted easily by books and toys. I hoped he wouldn't grow up to remember this, he was too young. He was _so_ young, and to be disturbed by seeing his dad in hospital like this. Nobody should go through that, let alone a _baby._

"We'll get to the bottom of it, once he wakes up." Harry reassured us, "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all of this, there always is."

"You don't believe that." I could read him like a book, Harry didn't believe that whatsoever. He had no idea what was going on, none of us did. But he was trying to keep us all calm, and to stop us worrying that something horrendous had happened.

"I... I don't know what to think, alright? This is weird. It's out of character and doesn't make sense with what little information we have. So I'm choosing to believe that there's a reasonable explanation to this, until I hear differently." Harry explained, chewing his lip.

"And who to we ask to get the full story? She isn't exactly picking up right now, and Buzz is no help." Danny pulled Buzz closer, he was right. She wasn't answering her phone, and Buzz was only just a year old, he could only three words - 'dada' 'mama' and 'pepper' - and only pepper because of Peppa Pig. He couldn't explain what happened, even if he had the words, I doubted he'd have understood what had happened over the past few days. So who else exactly could explain what happened?

"We ask Tom, when he wakes up. He's the one who's ill, he'll know what happened." the words 'if he's more with it' were unspoken, but very clear. We had no promise that Tom was going to be better when he woke up, able to form sentences or answer our questions. All we knew was that he'd be physically a bit stronger, not as dizzy or tired.

Just as Harry said it, Tom made a groaning sound, his head twitching.

"Tom?" Danny whispered, leaning towards the bed.

Tom groaned again, his head turning to the side as his eyes fluttered, starting to open.

"Hey, there you are, how are you feeling?" Danny smiled at him.

It took a few seconds, but Tom seemed to figure out where he was, before his eyes widened as he figured where he was.

"I, I... she was... I didn't do anything! I swear I didn't do anything!" Tom insisted straight away... what?


	5. Chapter 5

4 Tom's POV

Oh God, they were going to find out what happened! Oh God, oh God this wasn't good! They couldn't find out! They couldn't find out! They'd find out, realise and leave! They couldn't leave me, I couldn't be alone! I couldn't be alone!

"Tom, what? What didn't you do?" Danny asked, he was holding Buzz. Buzz was quiet in his arms, he was so good with him, how was he better than me already? Why couldn't I be better? Why?!

"N-Nothing! Nothing! Nothing happened, and I didn't do anything!" I really wasn't lying, but I wasn't saying anything else about this! I wasn't! I couldn't say, couldn't disappoint more people, make them leave me too. Not after she left, I couldn't do this without her, I needed help, I needed guidance. I _needed_ to be looked after. I couldn't do anything on my own; I couldn't be left without anyone. So they _couldn't_ find out, not right now.

They would eventually, but not right now. Not while I was stuck here in hospital, looking even more pathetic than usual. They'd have to find out eventually, but not now. I couldn't let them leave now, especially not leave with Buzz. I couldn't be alone; I never wanted to be alone. I couldn't be alone.

"Alright, alright, calm down Tom, it's okay. We believe you." Harry reached out, his hand resting on my shoulder.

"Ah, Mr Fletcher, glad to see that you're awake. Do you mind if I run some tests?" a doctor came in.

"W-What tests?" I didn't know what tests, I'd only passed out, there was nothing wrong with that, there didn't need to be tests for that, did there? I was fine, I didn't need anything! Was it mental health tests? Oh God it couldn't be those kinds of tests, they'd think I wasn't capable of looking after Buzz and take him away! They couldn't take him away! She said they'd take him away if they tested me too much! Say I was incompetent, that I was insane and wasn't capable of parenting my son!

"Just a few run of the mill things, testing pupil reaction, memory, things like that." he spoke with a Scottish accent, and his smile was kind. I didn't... could I... but I didn't need physical medical help. It was only passing out, it wasn't that bad. I was fine, really, absolutely fine. Didn't need checkups, or anything. If there was one thing that worked for me, it was my physical health.

"It won't take a minute, then you can be back with your band mates and your son, I promise." He seemed understanding... and he knew what was best, he was a doctor. You were supposed to listen to those in charge, especially when they were an expert in something.

I nodded my consent, Danny, Harry, Dougie and Buzz being sent out the room so the doctor had room to move. They didn't go far, just outside. I could hear Buzz babbling to himself. They hadn't taken him away; oh thank God they weren't taking him away. Not right now, I couldn't, I couldn't handle him being taken away.

"Okay, I should probably introduce myself, I'm Doctor Tennant, and I've been looking after you since you arrived yesterday. Do you remember what happened?" Doctor Tennant asked, still using such a kind voice. Did I really deserve such a kind voice? My wife had given up on me, and I'd left my son crying, I hadn't looked after him. I couldn't look after him or myself, couldn't keep the house straight, couldn't do simple tasks. I failed at everything I tried to do, and I'd failed again, did that really deserve kindness in return?

"I, I passed out, in my house." I answered dutifully, letting him check the machines I was hooked up to, feeling like I wanted to curl into a ball and disappear for a while. Who even forgets to _eat_ and _sleep?_ I did, I was so stupid, so damn _stupid._

"And do you know why?" the doctor asked, checking my pupil response by shining a light in my eyes.

"I was... I..." I couldn't say, couldn't _admit_ to it. I'd lose everyone, including Buzz. I couldn't lose him, or anyone else. I loved them all so much, and I needed the help. I needed the assistance and everyone was so damn patient with me. I needed patience. Patience and nobody with a temper. It's why she had gone, I annoyed her too much.

"No. Not really. I don't remember." I lied, looking away the second I could.

The doctor questioned more of my actions, asking about the last few days, I lied about as much as I could, so word didn't travel back to my band mates. I didn't want them to know right now. They would find out eventually, probably after the first failure I made when we got home. But I didn't want them to know _now,_ not while I was in this state. I was always in a state, but this was worse than usual. This was _far_ worse. I'd rather them to not see it until later, if they hadn't already noticed.

The longer I went without anybody noticing how useless I was, the better. I didn't know how patient the boys would be with me, or if they would deem me unfit to be a father to my son. I didn't want him taken away, didn't want any of them taken away. I wouldn't survive without them.

"Are you sure you can't remember, and that there's nothing you want to talk about?" Doctor Tennant asked, giving me a concerned look. He could see it, couldn't he? Could see that I was a failure, that I needed supervision, that I wasn't cut out for life on my own.

"No, I'm sure I'm fine." I lied in a whisper, not wanting pity right now, or for him to tell my band mates the truth. I wanted to keep it from them for as long as possible. It wouldn't be easy, but I would do my best. I couldn't have them leave, I could not lose them. I couldn't lose anyone again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Rut - I had to, I couldn't resist!**

* * *

5 Danny's POV

Tom had to be okay, he had to be okay, he was okay, wasn't he? The doctor wasn't going to say that he wasn't okay and had to be kept away from us, was he? He wasn't going to say that Tom was really ill and something very serious had happened. He was just going to say that Tom hadn't eaten well enough for the past few days and that was it, that's right, he was going to say that. And then we'd go home and everything would be fine. We'd go home and everything would be just fine. Absolutely fine. Fine as fine could be. Yes, absolutely, perfectly fine. Obviously.

Slowly, the door opened and Doctor Tennant came out, looking a bit concerned.

"How is he?" I stood, clutching Buzz closer to myself, the baby holding onto my shirt tighter.

"Tom is physically better than first thought. Now that we've restored his nutrient levels, and rehydrated him, he's a lot better. He could answer my questions well enough, and his response times were better than expected." He then paused, "I'm afraid though that Tom may need a psychological consult."

"What? Why? You just said he was fine!" I didn't understand, he just said that he was fine! Why did he need a psychiatrist?!

"Physically, Tom's fine. But I'm afraid he may not be too well mentally. When asked questions about what happened over the past few days, Tom was incredibly evasive, and was very, how shall I put it... judging by his current weight, he hasn't been eating much at all for a while, and has been showing signs of acute stress. I want to investigate the matter further, see if we can get to the cause of this." the doctor explained, his voice delicate.

"He, he's been eating when he's been with us though. And he's seemed fine." Whenever we'd been together, Tom had been fine, he'd always been fine. He'd been laughing and joking with us, eating normally, he'd been fine.

"I'm sure he has been, but that doesn't always mean that there isn't something wrong. A lot of serious illnesses can go unnoticed for a long time, so I think it may be best to look into it, just to see if there's anything that needs treating." Doctor Tennant answered, that _sounded_ like a good explanation...

But was Tom really ill? If he was, how hadn't we noticed? He didn't _seem_ any different from usual... then again, he had been acting weird this morning, and obviously he'd been ignoring our texts and phone calls the past few days. Was he really ill though?

"Okay, but are you sure? It's a little... maybe it's because his wife left him?" Harry suggested, "Though we don't know for how long, or anything. But it could be because of her, maybe."

"Could be too, but I'd like to check, just in case." Doctor Tennant smiled placatingly.

"O-Okay. If you think it's necessary." It would be best to check, just in case something was wrong, but was there really? I didn't think there was...

"I do, and it won't be too bad for him. It's just like what I did, asking questions, running a few tests." Doctor Tennant promised, "We may have to ask you a few questions too, to get a better idea of how Tom usually is, but we'll see."

"We'll do our best." Harry nodded, "Can we see him now though?"

"Of course, go ahead. Just, try not to rush him, or push him too hard, he's a little... fragile at the moment." The doctor stepped out of the way so we could get into Tom's room.

Crowding in, Tom was sitting on the bed, curled in on himself. He looked miserable, but sat up and tried to mask his feelings as we came in.

We tried to talk to him, ask him how he was, but Tom only told us that he was fine. He was clearly lying though, it was clear that he wasn't actually fine. He was anything _but_ fine. It was clear in the way he was holding onto himself, how he wasn't talking as much as he used to, only giving us short answers.

Tom really wasn't okay, no matter what he said. But _why?_ Was he ill? Was it something to do with his wife? Had something happened? I didn't know, and none of us could get it out of him. It didn't make sense though, why the hell was Tom acting like this, and why wasn't he telling us what had happened? He always told us everything, why not this?


	7. Chapter 7

6 Harry's POV

Tom remained evasive to our questions for days, even the psychiatrist couldn't get out of him what had happened. All that Tom would say was that he was fine, and that his wife had left. That was it. Nothing more. As for explaining why he had passed out, he said that he had been in shock, because his wife had left, that was all. He was better now, had had time to get used to the idea, could cope better.

Nobody believed him, not entirely, but there was nothing we could say to actually get him to talk, so we accepted it and moved on. It was clear that that was the bare basics of what happened, but the true details weren't going to be coming any time soon. His wife had left, he'd gone into shock (or something similar), passed out, and was now adjusting again. It wasn't ideal, and certainly didn't sound entirely right, and didn't explain everything, but when the answers weren't forthcoming, we just had to move on.

After the psychiatrist had recommended just simply keeping an eye on Tom, making sure he ate and slept, and wasn't showing signs of depression, he was allowed home. We were all given strict warnings that if we suspected that anything at all was wrong, then we _had_ to get Tom back to the hospital, or at least to a psychiatrist, to get him help. But other than that, we were left to just take him home and move on.

But could we? That was a dramatic thing to happen. Tom still wasn't talking much, didn't seem all there at points either. He was clearly putting on a mask and trying to carry on like nothing happened, but could we trust him to get on by himself? Maybe if he was on his own, but there was Buzz to think about. Tiny, little baby Buzz, helpless if his dad went a bit... off, again.

"We thought we'd stay over a couple of days, help out a bit." Danny suggested on the way home, sounding cheerful enough.

"What? Why? I'm fine on my own." Tom looked slightly scared at the prospect, that wasn't normal.

"We know, but you've had a bight of shock recently, we thought it would be best to stick around for a few days, to make sure that everything is okay." I explained gently, hoping that Tom took it well and accepted our help.

"But, but I can manage, I promise I can." Tom whispered, paling.

"We know, trust me, we do. But, she just left, and you haven't really... you haven't spent much time looking after Buzz by yourself since he was born, we thought that maybe you'd like a bit of back up for a bit, while you adjust." That was our excuse, and we were sticking to it. It was reasonable as an explanation, and was also true. Tom was a priority here, but so was Buzz. We had to think of the little boy too now.

"Oh, oh o-okay. I understand." Tom nodded, seeming crestfallen at the idea. He wouldn't have looked like that before if we had offered help, I was sure of it. He always let us help to look after Buzz while we were on tour, even if it was just looking after him for a few minutes while he had to go do something. Obviously moving in for a few weeks would be a different situation, but surely Tom could see the reasoning behind it?

"It's not that we don't think that you can do it Tom, we do. It's just that things have shifted a lot recently, and you need time to adjust. That's hard to do when there's a child involved. We just want to make sure you're both safe, okay?" Danny rested his hand on Tom's arm, he nodded sadly. I hoped it was just sadness over his wife, and nothing else. It really wasn't that we didn't think that Tom wasn't capable of looking after Buzz, he was, in fact he was a great dad to the kid. But after his reaction the other day, and the way we found him, could we really be blamed for stepping in for a while?

"Thank you, we'll make it through this together, I promise." Danny smiled brightly, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"If you say so." Tom sighed, looking out the window.

Seriously, what the _hell_ had happened to him?


	8. Chapter 8

7 Dougie's POV

Getting home, Tom didn't cheer up all that much. Buzz looked happier though, crawling straight over to his toys and grabbing his little guitar. It was actually a ukulele, but for him it was perfect guitar size, and he adored the thing. Maybe that was half the reason why he'd been so distressed the last few days, he didn't have his guitar with him...

Whatever, he was happy now, Tom though, he didn't seem at all okay. He seemed to be working on autopilot or something. He didn't take a second to breathe after walking through the door, instead announced that he was making lunch and went straight to do it. Danny ran after him to help, but for some reason, I got the distinct feeling that Tom couldn't decide if he wanted the help or not. For a second he looked relieved, and then so disappointed. Like we had just told him that he couldn't do something he loved.

It was worrying, and I had no idea on what to think of it at all. I didn't know what to think of any of this. Tom's wife had left him, and he'd just... _stopped._ He had utterly stopped. What was that all about? He didn't stop for anything, had worked through so much without batting an eyelid, and he _never_ ignored Buzz. Never. Buzz was always the centre of his attention, even when the boy was sleeping.

"What happened, huh? What happened to you and your dad?" I asked the child, who was happy to be shaking his rattle with the hand that wasn't holding his guitar.

"Don't suppose you know either, do you? You're too little." I sighed, pulling him into my lap for a hug. I felt like it was needed, for the both of us. I was so unsure of the situation, and poor Buzz had just lost his mum. I couldn't imagine losing a parent this young, it was bad enough at fifteen, let alone this young.

In reply to my last sentence, Buzz hit me on the head with his rattle. I suppose I deserved that, for asking him questions he couldn't answer. Stupid idea really, but the only one I had to figure out what was going on right now. Tom wasn't exactly being forthcoming with answers, and would only say that she'd left. Not the reasons why, or exactly when, or if it was just temporary, or anything. Just that she'd left. And that it was his fault.

I wasn't even sure on what to think about that. Tom had seemed so solid with her, like they'd be a couple that were together forever. The house was still covered in photos of them together, and a lot of them, and so many of Buzz. Lots of her things were still here too, I could see her books on the shelves, along with her DVDs. Her clothes hadn't been in the bedroom, but that seemed to be the only things missing. Everything else was still here. If she'd left, why hadn't she taken everything with her? Why hadn't she taken down the pictures, or acted like she wanted to leave for ages?

And why hadn't she taken Buzz? She loved Buzz, adored him, did everything for him, why hadn't she taken him?

Then again, I knew more than anyone else in this house that sometimes people just left with no warning. Dad had done it to my family, just upped and left with absolutely no warning whatsoever. One day he had been there, the next he hadn't. It wasn't that uncommon I guessed, it was possible to leave everything, including your children.

But a _baby,_ to leave a tiny one year old behind? How could someone do that? How could they honestly just _leave_ like that, leaving everything behind, including children? It didn't make sense to me, none of it made sense.

Though, admittedly, I was glad Buzz was still here. God knows how Tom would have been if Buzz had been taken from him too, he'd have been a complete wreck. Well, even more of a wreck than he already was, if that was possible.

Still though, how the hell had his wife left like this, so soon? I couldn't make heads or tails of it. And I doubted I ever would.


	9. Chapter 9

8 Danny's POV

"So, how you holding up?" I asked Tom, once we were safely away in the kitchen, Harry and Dougie left in the front room to look after Buzz.

"O-Okay." Tom answered, pulling out the bread.

"Better than before the hospital?" I questioned, wanting to know. He wasn't acting normally, hadn't been for days, I wanted to know if I could get something out of him.

"Yes, yes, better than that." Tom nodded, flashing a smile. It didn't reach his eyes. And was gone so fast that I was sure I had imagined it.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it." I smiled back, hoping it would be encouraging in some way.

"How... How was Buzz? Was he, was he okay?" Tom sounded so hesitant, like he was scared to talk.

"Yeah, he was alright. Little grumpy, but that's to be expected when he didn't have his guitar, and was somewhere he hadn't been before." I explained, trying to make it sound like it wasn't serious. I mean, Buzz was fine now, he was happy enough, had been his usual giggly self after he had gotten used to the hospital. So he must have been fine.

"Good, good... I'm sorry, for going that a-and making you look after him. I hadn't... I didn't mean to push him on you." Tom apologised, looking absolutely _ashamed_ of himself. He, he shouldn't have felt ashamed like that.

"No need to apologise, you had had a shock, we'd have done anything we could. And Buzz was no problem to look after, it's not like we're not used to him." we were used to him being around, because Tom brought him with us a lot. We looked after him when we were in dressings and stuff; it was fine to look after him. Let alone in Tom's time of need, it was no issue to look after him.

"Still, thank you. He erm," Tom paused, "it was... good, to have someone with him, who he trusts."

"Of course, and as I said, anything to help out in your time of need. And any other time too, it's all fine, I promise." I rubbed his arm, but somehow that still didn't relax him, or stop him looking like a kicked puppy.

"I'm just glad you're okay." I told him after a pause, "And if you need _anything,_ we're here. This is a tough time, so anything we can do, we're here."

"T-Thanks." Tom gave a slightly more genuinely smile this time.

"Like I said, no problem." I paused for a second, letting that sink in, "Now how about if we make a start on lunch, yeah? What does Buzz usually have?"

For some reason, I felt like I needed to guide Tom a bit, to make sure that he did what needed to be done. I didn't know why, but it felt like it was needed. It wasn't that I felt like Tom wasn't capable, it was just that... he wasn't _with_ it right now. He wasn't all there, and he was just so _sad,_ it wasn't quite right. None of this in this situation was _right,_ it was all wrong. Like Tom was missing something important, and I couldn't put my finger on it.

"He usually has a banana." Tom answered, picking up one from the fruit bowl, pealing it and starting to cut it into slices.

"Alright, and what do you want to eat?" Tom shrugged at my question, so I decided to make him a sandwich, like everyone else was having. Something easy to make and eat, not too much, and not too little, exactly as the doctor had ordered.

Luckily, Tom ate, as I wanted him too. He was slow at it, but he did eat the sandwich, so I wasn't about to complain.

But he wasn't just slow, he was... quiet. Not just quiet, _silent,_ in fact. Silent, and curled up in his seat, seemingly not paying attention to anything other than his own food, and how Buzz was doing with his own meal. It was odd to see him so quiet, and really not normal in the slightest. Tom wasn't the loudest person in the world, but he wasn't silent like this, not normally. He hadn't been last week, but suddenly he was. I didn't know whether to blame it entirely on the fact that his wife had left or not.

Obviously that would be disturbing for him, and scary. But to make him _this_ silent, this hesitant to so much as talk? I didn't think so, it didn't ring true with the Tom I knew. Nothing made him act like this. Even when he was ill, he wasn't this quiet. I didn't know what to think, all I knew was that this was seriously worrying.


	10. Chapter 10

9 Tom's POV

After everyone had finished, I immediately went to clear up. It was good to have a tidy house, she always used to say so, used to get so angry if I didn't tidy up after myself. If there was so much as a _crumb_ left behind she'd shout and be disappointed in me. I always tidied up now, made sure the house was a pleasant place to be. Or at least, it was pleasantly _clean_ to be inside, which was something.

"Hey, don't worry about the plates, we'll sort them out." Harry stopped me, grabbing my wrist.

"I can do it." I could do it; I wasn't so useless I couldn't wash up a couple of plates. Even after these past few days, I could do things; I could do good at times.

"Yeah but you made lunch, the least we can do is clean it up." Harry insisted, taking everything off me and taking it to the dishwasher. I didn't even know how to protest that, so slumped back in my seat, wondering what else I wasn't going to be trusted to do anymore. Had everyone decided that I was utterly useless and unable to do anything anymore? It felt like it, and the idea was devastating. I could do good, I could do things well, I swore I could.

"Dada! Dada!" Buzz decided to speak up then, fidgeting in his chair and reaching out for me.

I hesitated at first, scared someone was going to take him from me, but nobody did, so I picked my son up, pulling him out of his chair and into my lap. But Buzz didn't seem to want to sit and cuddle, he was wriggling about, trying to get on the floor. Oh, he'd just wanted out of his high chair, of course. Should have guessed that really.

With a sigh, I let him down, watching him run to the back door, his tiny hands reaching out to pull the handle.

"I think he wants to go out and play." Dougie commented, smiling fondly at the child.

"A few days couped up in a hospital will do that to you when you're that age." Danny agreed, I hid a wince. If I'd have known I'd end up _there,_ I would have kept myself going damn it! I wasn't... I hadn't been thinking right; I hadn't thought things through properly. If I had, I would have made sure I was in a state to look after Buzz.

"Why don't you go out and play with him a bit? Let him get rid of some of that energy, and spend some time with him." Danny suggested, hand resting on my arm for some reason. Was he trying to get rid of me? Get me out of the way? But why? And why trust me with Buzz? She didn't trust me with Buzz, told me I'd lose him, or let him get injured because I was careless.

"Er, o-okay." I would have to be really careful, so damn careful. Watch him and make sure he wasn't doing anything dangerous, or potentially harmful. I had to prove I could do it, I dreaded to think what would happen if I didn't. I had already failed Buzz once this week, I couldn't do it again.

I opened the door, following Buzz as he ran out to his toys, immediately going for his hoover. He loved that thing, ran all over the house and the garden with is usually. His hoover and his guitar were his favourite things to play with; he usually had one in his hand at all times.

Immediately Buzz ran around the garden, hovering up the grass under my watchful eye, making sure he wasn't going too near the flowers, or anything he could trip over. His laugh rang out across the garden, something I hadn't heard in a while, it felt like years since I last heard it. I had missed it dearly.

I hadn't usually been allowed to be play with Buzz, or his toys. My wife feared I'd screw it up, let him break something, or take over too much, delay his development. I always took over too much, played with his toys so much he couldn't play with them, or did something to detract from their real purpose. It was why I wasn't actually joining in with his now, and was instead just watching what he was doing. I wished I could join in, tease him a bit, help him put his shapes into the holes on his play set, even if I did have to pretend to sneeze on them first because he found it hilarious. I wished I could actually reach out and hold him, play with him, be a better dad.

I just wished I could actually be a dad to my son, instead of making mistake after mistake, stopping him from properly learning and playing. And I had no idea on how to do it right.


	11. Chapter 11

10 Danny's POV

"Er, guys, come here a minute." Harry called from the sink, Dougie and I stopped our conversation to go over, looking out the window like our drummer was.

"Does that seem normal to you?" Harry asked, nodding at the scene outside. At first it looked entirely normal, Buzz running around the garden like any little boy, his hoover in front of him as Tom watched. But the problem soon became obvious when Buzz ran over to Tom, clearly wanting him to play, but only getting a hand stroking his hair instead.

"That... That is definitely not normal." I mean, I didn't have any kids, but I had younger cousins, and I had never seen anybody do that with a child, especially not their own. Tom should have been playing with Buzz, doing... I don't know. Chasing him round the garden? Helping him with the shapes on the doorway thing, pressing buttons on the toys so Buzz knew that they did things? Anything but sitting there, simply stroking the kid's hair briefly before encouraging him to go back to playing by himself.

"I thought not." Harry sighed, looking disappointed for a second.

Buzz reached out to Tom, taking his glasses off him, trying them on for himself. Tom flashed a smile, before taking them off the baby. I swore I'd seen Tom let Buzz take his glasses for longer than that, letting him play with them. In fact, I was sure I'd seen Tom play with Buzz quite often before, in fact I was _certain_ of it. I remembered watching Tom chase Buzz around backstage at an arena, before picking him up and spinning him around, pretending to dance with him, everything you did with a child. Why the difference now? What was going on?

"You don't think he's acting like this because of the divorce, do you?" Dougie asked, chewing on his lip.

"I don't know." Harry wrapped an arm around him.

"No, he was, when we were talking earlier, he was concerned about Buzz being happy. If this was to do with the divorce, he'd be doing his best to cheer Buzz up." I was sure of it, so sure of it. Earlier on Tom had been really concerned with Buzz and how he was after the hospital, I was sure if this was to do with the divorce; Tom would be doing everything he possibly could to make Buzz forget about the past few days. But he wasn't, he was just sitting there. Something else was going on here, and I couldn't put my finger on it.

"He doesn't look happy." Dougie commented, I leant closer to the window, really paying attention to Tom's face.

He didn't. He didn't look happy in the slightest. Tom looked like... he looked like he wanted to join in _badly,_ but something was stopping him. But what could possibly be stopping him? What could he possibly be thinking about that was stopping him playing with his son? Especially after the past few days, what could be more important than giving Buzz some normalcy?

I couldn't think of anything, couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening. Tom should have been playing with Buzz, should have been joining his son, even if his heart wasn't in it. He always used to join in, no matter how he was feeling. But now he was staying still, keeping out of Buzz's way, instead watching him like a hawk. And that was while staring at Buzz longingly, like he wanted to join in. So why wasn't he?

It didn't make sense, none of his behaviour made sense. None of this entire situation made sense. I couldn't understand any of it, none of us could. It was just... Tom wasn't being himself, and it went further than just his wife leaving him. Something serious was going on, even the shrink said to keep an eye on him. But what the hell could we say to him to get to the bottom of it? Everything we had tried recently hadn't worked.

I wouldn't give up though, I refused. I was going to get to the bottom of this, and I was going to help fix Tom too. Somehow. I didn't know how I was going to do it, or even what was wrong, but I was going to do something. I wouldn't stand to see him look like this. Tom didn't deserve to look like this. He deserved to be happy, and I was going to make him.


	12. Chapter 12

11 Harry's POV

Tom must have sensed us watching him, because he turned round to look at the window. We all hurried to look busy, but it couldn't have fooled him for a second. We had been caught watching, and I dreaded to think how that was going to translate in Tom's mind. I had this terrible feeling that everything we did translated badly in his head, to what extent I didn't have a clue, but he certainly wasn't seeing our actions as helpful, or at least out of a place of care.

Out the corner of my eye, I saw Tom sigh and turn away, looking back at his son. From what I could tell, Buzz had given up on getting Tom involved, and was dejectedly bashing some toy or other against the floor. I couldn't exactly blame him for that. Though I wasn't sure if I could blame Tom either, there was something niggling at me, something wasn't quite _right_ with this whole thing. I couldn't tell what it was, but something was definitely wrong with this whole thing.

Eventually, when we felt it was safe to go out, we ventured outside too. Dougie immediately started playing with Buzz, trying to make the boy laugh, and soon Buzz was giggling and running around the garden like a happy little boy. The sight made my heart swell with an unnamed feeling, just like it did every time I saw him play with a child like that. It made me wish to see Dougie with a child of our own one day. He was great with kids, and adored spending time with them. I did too, but Dougie was _made_ for fatherhood in a lot of ways.

Tom didn't try to join in at all, instead stayed where he was in his little isolated section of garden. Even when Dougie called him over, he turned it down, remaining on the patio until it was time to give Buzz his dinner and get him off to bed. All of which Tom did by himself, insisting that he could do it. I tried to tell him that we didn't doubt that, but it fell on deaf ears, as it had done the past few days.

"This is not right." I spoke up after the sound of splashing water could be heard.

"He's going through the motions of parenting, he's not enjoying it like he used to." Danny replied, looking at the ceiling, like that would help.

"It's like he's on auto-pilot." It was the only way I could describe it. Tom just seemed to be on autopilot. He was doing what he had to, in terms of looking after Buzz, but he wasn't _connecting._ He was just doing it, because he had to. It was odd. Too odd for words really. I'd never seen him like this.

Even during Tom's 'down times' he hadn't been like this. He made an effort for Buzz; he _always_ made an effort to make the kid happy. This wasn't him making an effort, this was him doing what was expected, while he looked longingly at his son, like he wanted to do more but something was stopping him.

And the behaviour carried on for _days,_ there was no difference in Tom whatsoever. He was still going through everything on auto-pilot, doing what had to be done to look after Buzz and keeping the house running, but that was all. There was no spark of _life_ in him anymore. It was almost like he was a robot. A robot trained to do certain tasks and that was it. And if we took one away to do it ourselves, he looked so lost and disappointed.

It didn't make _sense;_ surely he'd be happy to have some of his workload taken from him during this tough time? Surely he would appreciate our help? But it seemed like he didn't. Everything we did made him look like we'd told him he was useless, like we had kicked him while he was already down, and none of us understood _why._ We tried helping out in different ways, tried cheering him up, tried giving him a break, but nothing did anything to change his mood. He was still absolutely flat and robotic. The only thing that seemed to put him at ease was leaving him to do whatever he needed to do.

But it didn't feel _right_ to be doing that to him right now. His wife had just left him, he'd had a breakdown or something because of it, he wouldn't even play with his son. It wasn't _right,_ none of this was right. This wasn't Tom, this wasn't normal; this wasn't okay in the slightest. None of this was okay, and none of it made sense. What I wouldn't give to have something to help all of this make sense.


	13. Chapter 13

12 Dougie's POV

"Doug," Harry hesitated, looking away.

"Yes?" I turned to lie on my side, facing my other half, wondering what was making him hesitate. Something hadn't happened; we'd been with Tom all day and had only just gone up to bed now.

"Can I ask you... Do you mind if... Do you think Tom's depressed?" Harry asked in a rush, like he was scared of my reaction.

"Erm, possibly, why?" I wasn't sure why this conversation was making Harry stutter through it.

"I'm asking because, well... you've had experiences of it, in the past. And you know better than me and Danny what it's like, so maybe you could spot something we didn't." oh, that explained the hesitancy. Harry never liked to talk about my 'Great Depression' days, he didn't like thinking that he hadn't noticed how bad I was getting, and didn't like to remember how much pain I was in. Personally, I didn't _mind_ talking about it when it was important, but it was a bit... it wasn't exactly pleasant, put it that way.

"Ah, erm, well Tom's already bipolar; he could be having a bad dip." I didn't think it was possible to have bipolar _and_ depression at the same time. I could have been wrong there though. To be perfectly honest, I didn't understand depression all that well. I just knew the symptoms, how it affected me, and my methods of coping with it. I coped by keeping busy, and taking medication. For Tom though, I knew that he took medication, and he used to have a therapist, just like I had done, but we'd both dropped them years ago. I didn't think Tom had any other ways of dealing with his bipolar, and if he did, I had no idea what they were.

"He's not acting like he does when he's in a dip though. He isn't snapping at us constantly, or in a horrendous mood, like he usually is. Besides, I've checked his pill box; he's been taken his medication, or at least is making an effort to make it look like he's taking them." Harry explained, "That's why I was asking you, because you know more about de- _down_ moments than anyone." He wasn't good at saying the word 'depression' a lot of the time, he preferred 'down moments,' I had to admit I preferred it that way too a lot of the time.

"Well, it's difficult to say, because everyone is different. The symptoms are generally the same, but the behaviour changes from person to person. Many pretend everything's fine, like I did, to varying degrees of success. Some wallow in it, and do stupid things to make themselves feel better," I didn't mention that that also applied to me, "But generally, they're not this... they're not like he is, with it. They're not this quiet, or this routine orientated." I took a minute to think about it, comparing my experiences to how Tom was now.

"It's difficult to get out of bed, to actually find the energy to _do_ things. Being with people is exhausting, so you tend to avoid interaction as much as possible. But you're also feeling, not exactly _ashamed_ of how you're feeling, but you don't want anyone to know, so you act like you're fine as best you can, and let everything out later, when you're alone. Before, when we both diagnosed, we talked about it together, for several hours in fact, and when Tom's down, he has those symptoms I just said about." I could recall in detail everything Tom said, and how similar our symptoms were.

"Tom's too active, too motivated. I know he seems to be running to exact timings every day, but there's still too much drive there. And he's with us so much; he chooses to be with us when he's not doing something. I don't think this is a depressive dip, it seems too different from his usual behaviour, and I don't think it's him trying to cover it." I explained, I was almost sure of it. I knew Tom well, knew his symptoms well enough, knew them in myself too, this wasn't a bipolar thing.

"Right, so that hasn't narrowed things down." Harry sighed.

"No, but at least we know he's on his meds like he's supposed to be." That was a good sign, in amongst everything bad; at least Tom was still on his medication.

"Good point... it can't all be the divorce though, can it? This isn't just the effects of divorce, it feels too... I don't know, it doesn't feel like that's the only issue here." Harry chewed on his lip in thought.

"I don't know, if you suddenly left me like that, I'd probably fall to pieces too." I'd fall very hard, incredibly hard. Harry was _everything,_ a best friend, lover, band mate, older brother/father figure, protector, everything rolled into one. Without him I didn't know what I'd do.

"I would too. But I just... something isn't right here. Something I can't put my finger on. I wish I could see what it is, but I've got nothing." Harry sighed again, just as the sound of Buzz crying filled the hallway.

Soon there were footsteps crossing the hall, then the sound of Tom gently trying to calm Buzz down. That was another thing; he didn't let us do anything but play with Buzz. He did everything else, even though he'd let us all pitched in several times in the past. Tom now did _everything,_ even down to cleaning him up after a meal. We weren't even allowed to be a part of anything else; Tom always shut us out of it, almost like he was scared to let us see him parenting his son, even though we had seen him do it in the past practically every day.

This really wasn't a bipolar depression, and certainly wasn't induced by mania either. But what else was there? Not much, that was for certain.


	14. Chapter 14

13 Tom's POV

"Shh, shhh Buzz, it's okay, I'm here now." I whispered, bouncing my son gently on my hip, hoping to calm him. All I got in return was more loud crying.

"Shh, please shhh. It's okay, it's okay." I kissed his head, checking to see if he needed his nappy changing. That was fine, and he didn't feel hot, so he wasn't coming down with an illness.

"Is it your teeth? Are they coming through?" I tried to check, only seeing the few he already had grown. Couldn't hurt to put on some teething gel though...

Carefully, I took us both downstairs, trying to avoid waking my sleeping band mates, not sure if I succeeded or not. I hoped I had, not wanting to wake them up from their needed sleep. Or for them to hear how I was failing to calm my son. She'd be so disappointed in me right now, taking Buzz off me to do things herself, he always calmed down with her, so easily. She always knew what he needed.

Downstairs, I headed to the kitchen, getting the teething gel out the cupboard and rubbing it into Buzz's gums, before getting out his teething ring, hoping that may sooth him. Or at least give him something to stop the tears.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. It's all okay." I promised over and over, like she used to, not sure if it was doing anything at all. Buzz was still crying, quieter, but that was only because he was muffled by the cold ring in his mouth.

He didn't stop crying, never stopped crying. But I had checked everything, and tried to get rid of his possible pain. If he didn't need his nappy changing, teething gel on his gums, or a new bottle, what else could he want?

He was making sound, like he was trying to say something, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

"What was that Buzz?" I pulled the ring away slightly.

"Mama." Buzz's voice hitched in the middle of the word. Oh God, he was crying for his mum, he wanted her. How couldn't I have seen that? Of course he wanted her, he _missed_ her, she was his _mum._ He wanted her to come back and hold him and take care of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but she isn't here. I don't know where she is. I wish I did but I don't, I'm so sorry." I stroked his hair, wishing I could bring her back and give him to her. She knew what to do, she kept everything running, she knew how to do things. I couldn't do this; I couldn't do _anything,_ not without her guidance. I wasn't good at this stuff, no matter how hard I tried, but she was, she was good at it all.

"Mama." Buzz mumbled again, tears still falling.

"She's not here ,I'm sorry, I wish she was. But she's not here, and I don't know when she's coming back." I was lying to him now, pretending that she was coming back at some point. I shouldn't have been saying it, but how else could I calm him down? I couldn't tell my _son,_ my special little boy that his _mother wasn't coming back,_ that _he'd never see her again._ That would be cruel, too cruel for words. I was bad at parenting, but I wasn't _that_ bad.

But was lying worse for him? He wouldn't remember it, he was a baby, but was it bad to not tell him the truth of it all? That his mum had left him, that she wasn't coming back to this place? What was worse, telling or not telling? Especially now, when he was crying like this? He wanted his mum, wanted her to be the one to look after him, but she wasn't here and I couldn't give her to him. I was trying to pretend that if I worked hard, proved I could do this by myself, that I was competent enough, she would come back to us. That if I could do things without supervision, she'd come back, because it meant that she could relax for a bit, instead of having to keep an eye on me. But it wasn't working, and wasn't true. Or at least I was pretty certain it wasn't true. She hadn't said anything like that. She'd just said that she'd had it, that if I couldn't actually learn to do anything right, she couldn't be here anymore. That she was done with me being absolutely useless. And with that, she'd left.

I couldn't tell that to Buzz though, I couldn't tell him that I was the reason why his mum had left. He must have been so confused already. Telling him that would complicate things even more.

So what did I do to help him? Was there anything I could do? Or did I just have to try and get him through this on my own?


	15. Chapter 15

14 Danny's POV

First thing in the morning, Harry and Dougie talked to me about their late night discussions, and I had to agree with them. It didn't seem like Tom was having a bipolar depressive episode. He was usually angrier, and a lot more isolated from us. And it wasn't like he was trying to prove anything. This was definitely different.

Which raised the question - just what was wrong with Tom? None of us could figure it out, but it felt like it wasn't just the divorce, more like something else was going on. What though was a mystery.

"Maybe we should take him back to the shrink guy. He may be able to figure something out." Dougie suggested, fiddling with a bit of his fringe, like he did when he was nervous.

"I don't think Tom would enjoy that very much." I didn't want to upset Tom further, he was already sad and stressed enough.

"He isn't enjoying himself very much as it is. Maybe we should take him, explain what's going on here, so he has more to work with." Harry replied, he did have a point.

"But still, it seems wrong to take him back against his will, make him feel worse." I chewed on a nail.

"It could help us to make him feel better in the long wrong." Harry was right, but it still feel _right._

"Let's give him another week, just in case. He may turn around this week." I pleaded, just in case.

"Alright, but just this week. If there's no sign of how we can help, or any improvement, we'll have to take him back." Harry agreed, somewhat reluctantly.

Tom looked exhausted when we got downstairs, like he had been awake half the night. I had only heard Buzz crying for a while though, and the boy was rather energetic this morning, so Tom must have been awake for another reason.

"Alright?" I asked, taking a seat next to him.

"Fine." Tom answered immediately, like it wasn't clear by the bags under his eyes that he wasn't.

"You sure? You look tired." I probed a bit, trying not to lean in closer to get a better look at him.

"I'm sure; I was up late with Buzz. He was teething. I was making sure that he was okay, and not in pain." Tom almost rushed to say the last part.

"Ah, teething isn't any fun, is it?" I picked up the baby, giving him a tickle and making him giggle.

"No... I, I put on teething gel, which helps." It was like Tom was trying to prove to me he could manage by himself.

"That's all you can do really, he can't not grow his teeth, because then how will you eat all the yummy food we're going to cook for you?" I blew a raspberry on Buzz's cheek. Tom cracked a small smile at the sound, but still looked so very sad. He used to light up when Buzz laughed, now it was always twinged with sadness. It was horrible to watch, and I wished I knew how to stop him looking like that.

Even when Tom was in a depressive phase, I swear he didn't look like _this._ This was like he had had the joy sucked out of him. Every single bit of it was gone. It was heartbreaking, and scary to witness. The divorce was hitting him hard, but was something else at play? Something that wasn't his bipolar? It seemed like it, but _what?_

I didn't want to take him back to the shrink again. The shrink meant something diagnosable, something was _wrong_ with Tom. I didn't want to see Tom with another problem; he had struggled enough with bipolar over the years. If he had something else to overcome, on top of the divorce, I didn't know how he'd cope. We would help as much as we could, but if he wouldn't let us help, then it was hopeless.

I was scared to take him back, but if we had to, we had to. Even if it was painful. Even if Tom hated us for it. We had to help him, in whatever way we could.


	16. Chapter 16

15 Harry's POV

"Hey Tom, can we talk a minute?" I asked, it was a quiet enough time, Danny and Dougie were pushing Buzz on his swing, so the kid was being cared for. Tom was just watching them with his sad eyes, and so I figured that this was the best time to talk.

"Erm yeah... What's wrong?" Tom stood up, looking very, very worried as he followed me to the table.

"Nothing's wrong as such, I was just wondering... are you alright?" I asked, knowing that Tom would probably say that he was fine, but needing to ask. After last night's conversation with Dougie, I just needed to ask, to make sure.

"I'm fine." Tom answered, as I'd predicted.

"Are you sure? You just, you seem a bit down... You're not having a dip are you?" it was hard to talk about, it shouldn't have been, but it was. After the initial conversation about his bipolar, we'd never really _talked_ about it. Apart from the occasional 'you alright?' we never talked about it, we just figured that Tom was doing well. He'd never seemed down, or like he was struggling, so we never talked about it.

"I, erm. No, no I'm not having any sort of dip. I'm on my medication, taking it as I'm supposed to, and I haven't stopped taking it for even a day for years, I'm not ill." It was the most he'd said in a while. He looked panicked too, incredibly panicked.

"Alright, alright, calm down a bit, it's fine. I was just asking, because we're concerned. You're not... you just seem a bit down, that's all. We're worried." I explained, hating how it hard it was talk about it. It shouldn't have been, but it was. Maybe we should have talked about Tom's mental health more...

"I, I'm fine. I just... she left, and it's difficult to adjust. That's all." Tom was lying; something more was going on here. I could tell by the way Tom was speaking, the way his face looked like he was practically pleading me to believe him.

"Are you sure? It's okay if there's something else going on you know, we won't judge, or think anything bad of you. We just want to help you, thanks all." I held his hand, hoping he would understand that I truly meant it.

"Thanks, but I'm fine, I'm still on my medications and everything." Tom flashed another smile, pulling his hand out from under my own.

"Alright, and if you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to tell us. We can help you, even if it's just taking care of Buzz for a while." I smiled back, more genuinely.

"Thank you, but I can manage. I'm doing fine." Tom answered, "I'll be fine."

"Okay, but still, remember what I said. We're here, whenever you need us, for whatever you need us for." I promised, we would do absolutely anything for Tom.

"Thank you, but I can manage." Tom stood, then looked lost, watching his son on the swing, "There's... I have to go and make lunch." He walked away.

I still wasn't used to seeing him act like this, like he was acting entirely on a premade routine. He had to do things at certain times, and did the exact same things every day. Making meals at certain times, playing with Buzz at certain times, putting him to bed, cleaning and tidying. It was all clockwork, every single day, without fail. Tom never used to be like that. He used to make sure Buzz ate and slept at a regular time, but everything else was all free and easy. It was never like this, and it was wrong to see him like this. Tom was supposed to be free and easy, able to talk about things.

If we asked if he was struggling, he'd always been honest, after he'd been diagnosed. After Tom and Dougie's struggles, we'd all promised each other to be truthful when it came to problems with our mental health. Now he was hiding away, putting on a terrible mask and pretending that everything was fine, when it clearly wasn't.

If this continued, we were going to have to take him back to the psychiatrist. And just hope to God that he could sort Tom out, or at least help get to the bottom of what was happening to him.


	17. Chapter 17

15 Harry's POV

"Hey Tom, can we talk a minute?" I asked, it was a quiet enough time, Danny and Dougie were pushing Buzz on his swing, so the kid was being cared for. Tom was just watching them with his sad eyes, and so I figured that this was the best time to talk.

"Erm yeah... What's wrong?" Tom stood up, looking very, very worried as he followed me to the table.

"Nothing's wrong as such, I was just wondering... are you alright?" I asked, knowing that Tom would probably say that he was fine, but needing to ask. After last night's conversation with Dougie, I just needed to ask, to make sure.

"I'm fine." Tom answered, as I'd predicted.

"Are you sure? You just, you seem a bit down... You're not having a dip are you?" it was hard to talk about, it shouldn't have been, but it was. After the initial conversation about his bipolar, we'd never really _talked_ about it. Apart from the occasional 'you alright?' we never talked about it, we just figured that Tom was doing well. He'd never seemed down, or like he was struggling, so we never talked about it.

"I, erm. No, no I'm not having any sort of dip. I'm on my medication, taking it as I'm supposed to, and I haven't stopped taking it for even a day for years, I'm not ill." It was the most he'd said in a while. He looked panicked too, incredibly panicked.

"Alright, alright, calm down a bit, it's fine. I was just asking, because we're concerned. You're not... you just seem a bit down, that's all. We're worried." I explained, hating how it hard it was talk about it. It shouldn't have been, but it was. Maybe we should have talked about Tom's mental health more...

"I, I'm fine. I just... she left, and it's difficult to adjust. That's all." Tom was lying; something more was going on here. I could tell by the way Tom was speaking, the way his face looked like he was practically pleading me to believe him.

"Are you sure? It's okay if there's something else going on you know, we won't judge, or think anything bad of you. We just want to help you, thanks all." I held his hand, hoping he would understand that I truly meant it.

"Thanks, but I'm fine, I'm still on my medications and everything." Tom flashed another smile, pulling his hand out from under my own.

"Alright, and if you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to tell us. We can help you, even if it's just taking care of Buzz for a while." I smiled back, more genuinely.

"Thank you, but I can manage. I'm doing fine." Tom answered, "I'll be fine."

"Okay, but still, remember what I said. We're here, whenever you need us, for whatever you need us for." I promised, we would do absolutely anything for Tom.

"Thank you, but I can manage." Tom stood, then looked lost, watching his son on the swing, "There's... I have to go and make lunch." He walked away.

I still wasn't used to seeing him act like this, like he was acting entirely on a premade routine. He had to do things at certain times, and did the exact same things every day. Making meals at certain times, playing with Buzz at certain times, putting him to bed, cleaning and tidying. It was all clockwork, every single day, without fail. Tom never used to be like that. He used to make sure Buzz ate and slept at a regular time, but everything else was all free and easy. It was never like this, and it was wrong to see him like this. Tom was supposed to be free and easy, able to talk about things.

If we asked if he was struggling, he'd always been honest, after he'd been diagnosed. After Tom and Dougie's struggles, we'd all promised each other to be truthful when it came to problems with our mental health. Now he was hiding away, putting on a terrible mask and pretending that everything was fine, when it clearly wasn't.

If this continued, we were going to have to take him back to the psychiatrist. And just hope to God that he could sort Tom out, or at least help get to the bottom of what was happening to him.


	18. Chapter 18

16 Dougie's POV

After Harry talked to Tom, there was a small change in him. He smiled more, and spoke up more. He was writing songs again too, whenever he had time. It was great to see, there was more Tom in Tom, instead of a shell.

But it still wasn't right. His smile wasn't real, he only said things that were necessary, he still wasn't _talking_ to us. It still felt like he was going through the motions, doing what was necessary to keep going and make it seem like he was okay. I couldn't help but feel like all of this was him acting, pretending that it was all okay so he didn't fall apart.

Tom just looked so _fragile_ right now, like the smallest gust of wind could make him fall down and shatter. He'd never looked like that before, no matter how much weight he'd lost, or how low his mood went. He'd always still looked strong, but now he looked like he was breaking apart, while still desperately trying to hold it together. And none of us could understand _why._ It wasn't just the divorce; it couldn't _just_ be the divorce.

The divorce wouldn't stop Tom playing with Buzz, wouldn't stop him talking to us, wouldn't stop him from being _himself._ This wasn't him, this wasn't the divorce, but what _was_ it?

"He's apologising a lot." Danny pointed out, chewing on his nails. He was going to have no nails left soon.

"He is." Harry agreed, because Tom was apologising. Whenever he thought he'd done something wrong, he apologised. Even if it was just getting the wrong brand of a certain food. None of us cared if it was a different brand, or anything like that, but he apologised so much it was like he thought it was one of the worst things he could do. Everything he did that sounded slightly wrong, he apologised for, with such a panic it was like he was scared we would be really angry with him.

"And he's only speaking when spoken to, or when it's absolutely necessary." I continued, getting agreements there too. I missed Tom, the real Tom. This wasn't the real Tom, this was some cheap imitation.

"Looks like we'll have to get him to the psychiatrist, see if he has any insight." Harry did not look all too happy about that. The idea of Tom and psychiatrists always seemed _bad._ Even after all the positive effects of being helped by psychiatrists, it had never been easy. And held some bad memories for me and Tom both. It was hard, and uncomfortable, and scary.

"Tom's not going to be happy." Danny sighed, at least he wasn't arguing like he was last time.

"He's not, but if we can get to the bottom of whatever this is, then isn't it worth it?" Harry asked, it would be a good thing, to sort that out. But Tom didn't want to go, he would be so angry with us. He'd gone in secret last time, hadn't told us about his diagnosis until I'd had mine, hadn't wanted to appear like he wasn't completely together and in control. Us taking him to the psychiatrist was us basically saying that we didn't trust him, trust how he saw his own mental health. We did, we just... he wasn't okay, and maybe he needed help to see that.

Would he though? He wasn't exactly the most _emotional_ person right now. Would he hide his feelings? Pretend that he was fine with it all? That didn't make sense. _None_ of this made sense.

"I guess, but, can we really hurt his feelings?" I didn't want to hurt Tom more, he was hurting enough as it was.

"But he's already got his feelings hurt a hell of a lot. We can help _fix_ it with the psychiatrists help." Harry explained, "We have to try, alright? We can't just let him carry on like this."

"Fine, we'll take him, but if it doesn't work, we'll have to think of something else." Danny gave in, though I could tell he wasn't happy about it. None of us were happy about it, really. We had no choice though, did we? We couldn't let Tom carry on like this; we had to get to the bottom of it. The psychiatrist could help, even if it upset Tom at first. I was for the greater good, we had to believe it.


	19. Chapter 19

17 Danny's POV

I _hated_ agreeing to this, agreeing to take Tom to the psychiatrist, it felt like such a betrayal. It was for the right reasons, but damn it I hated the idea of taking him to the guy again, knowing that he was going to hate us for it. It needed to be done, to make him feel better, so he could go back to how he was. Still felt wrong though, so damn wrong. _Damn it._

For the rest of the week, I watched Tom like a hawk, just in case there was any sign of improvement in him. _Anything_ to stop us from taking him to the shrink. I saw nothing though, he was still too quiet, still too closed off, still apologising too much. It wasn't right, wasn't improving, wasn't doing anything but spiralling. We had to take him, _damn it_ we had to take him.

"This feels _wrong._ " I tried one last time, crossing my arms across my chest, feeling my stomach churn at the idea.

"It's for the best Danny, really, it is. He's struggling, he needs help." Harry sighed, at least looking sympathetic.

"It still doesn't feel right, he's going to be so upset." I almost wanted to cry, imagining Tom's reaction. If he thought that he needed to apologise repeatedly for the smallest of things, what was he going to do when we took him to a _psychiatrist?_ He was going to _freak,_ and probably cry, and panic and get into a right state. I didn't want to see him in a state, didn't want to put it in that state.

"It's for the best though, he'll get better afterwards, and things will be easier. He'll be able to cope better, everything's too much right now." Harry explained, rubbing my shoulder.

"Fine, I just... I don't feel right about this." we had never done something like this before. Even when Dougie had had to go into rehab, even though we had _driven him_ there, it wasn't the same. That wasn't behind his back, we weren't lying to anybody, it was all done with everyone in the know. This was lying and cheating, and... and it just felt _wrong_ to me.

"I don't either." Dougie spoke up, shuffling around on the spot.

"None of us do, but if we don't, Tom's going to keep on spiralling. We can give him a lift and the chance to get better by taking him." Harry reasoned, which was also true.

"Okay, tomorrow then?" today was too late, and Tom seemed more stressed than usual.

"Yeah, tomorrow." Harry and Dougie agreed, before we went back to the kitchen, where Tom was feeding Buzz his dinner.

The evening was quiet, Buzz going up to sleep at his usual time. Tom didn't come back down again, instead stayed upstairs to continue writing the song he was working on. When I offered help, I was declined, which was disappointing. If Tom was working though, I respected that, he seemed to need some alone time, I wasn't going to take that from him either.

Eventually though, we all headed to bed, trying to get some sleep, as it was going to be a long day tomorrow. A long day nobody was going to enjoy in the slightest.

But, the problem was, Buzz wouldn't stop crying. Buzz seemed to be constantly crying tonight for some reason, and while I could hear Tom trying to calm him down, it didn't seem to be doing much. It felt like there was no let up at all, just Buzz's solid tears, which wasn't normal. He usually at least stopped for a while, but tonight he was not stopping. So I decided to go down and see what was going on.

Heading towards Tom's room, Buzz's cries were getting louder, along with Tom making 'shushing' noises. But Tom was also running around, with Buzz in his arms as he was calming him, trying to quiet his son down as best he could.

"Shh Buzz, shh. Come one, you need to calm down, please calm down." Tom was saying as I opened the door.

"Tom, what's going on?" I asked, making the two jump.

"Danny! Nothing, nothing's going on." Tom was panicky, _incredibly_ panicky. Something was very, very wrong.

"No Tom, seriously, what's going on?" I looked around the room, noticing the open suitcase, "Wait, why are you packing a bag?!" that didn't... why was he packing a bag?!

"I, I can't... You can't..." Tom stuttered, clutching Buzz closer to himself as the baby cried harder.

"Tom." I stepped further into the room, making him step back against the wall.

"Please, please don't take Buzz from me. O-Or send me away, p-please." Tom begged. What!?


	20. Chapter 20

18 Tom's POV

Danny, Harry and Dougie wouldn't stop talking with each other, secluding themselves off in separate rooms, always coming back looking worried. They were planning something, something bad, wanted me out of it. Oh God, they figured it out, didn't they? They'd figured out that I couldn't do this, that I wasn't able to look after my son. They were going to take Buzz from me. They were going to take him away from me because I couldn't look after him, because I was bipolar, because I wasn't even capable of looking after myself. They were taking him from me; _they were taking him from me._

She had always said that this would happen without her there to do the actual parenting. That without her I'd never manage to look after Buzz, that everyone would see that I couldn't do this by myself, that I was utterly useless as parenting. That I wasn't capable because I couldn't even control my own _emotions,_ let alone a child, or keep him on a schedule, or feed him the right things, or play with him right, or do anything _right_ in raising him. They'd take him away from me because I was screwing him up with every second I was looking after him.

But I'd tried, I'd tried _so hard._ I had done _everything_ I could possibly do to be a good dad. I left him alone as he played, made sure we had a routine in place that didn't vary at all every day, I kept the house clean, fed him fruit and vegetables, made sure he was clean and as happy as I could. I did everything I could, why wasn't it enough? Why was it _never_ enough? Why couldn't I do something as simple as _looking after my son on my own?_ Why was I so useless at this?

We had to go, had to get out of here. I couldn't let Buzz go; I couldn't just let my band mates take him from me. I loved him, I loved him so much, and I could do better. I just needed to be guided in the right direction, I could do it. I swore I could do it. I just needed to be guided, that was all. I needed guidance and a bit of back up. They couldn't take him away, they couldn't take my baby away, he was all I had left, they _couldn't_ take him away.

"Tom, please, what do you mean by don't take Buzz away?" Danny asked, edging towards me some more, hand stretched out to us. His hand was reaching towards Buzz.

"No! Please I can do this! I can do this! I can be a good dad and be good for Buzz; I can raise him right I swear! Don't take him from me!" I begged, I couldn't have my son taken, I _needed_ him. I needed him more than anything! I loved him!

"We're not taking him from you Tom, I don't know where you got that idea from, but we're not taking him away." Danny sounded sincere, but I couldn't, I couldn't trust him. I'd heard them talking earlier, about making things _easier_ for me to cope with. What else could they mean? I knew what making things _easier_ meant; she'd said it so often, whenever I screwed up.

"Don't lie! You're lying!" I couldn't let my guard down, they'd take my baby. Nobody could take my baby from me!

"I'm not lying Tom, I promise you I'm not lying. I wouldn't lie to you. Now why don't you tell me where you got this idea from? Why do you think we're taking Buzz from you?" Danny stepped forward again, I couldn't get back any further, I was backed against the wall already.

"I don't believe you." I pulled my son closer to myself, his tiny little fists holding onto my shirt with all of his strength.

"Tom, I swear to you, we're not taking Buzz from you, we would never dare to take him from you, no matter what happened. Buzz is your son; we wouldn't take him from you for any reason." Danny still sounded sincere, but it was all _lies._ It all had to be lies. She'd told me, over and over again that without her I wasn't capable of looking after Buzz. I'd never be able to look after him by myself, I couldn't do it, I'd never be able to do it. That he'd be taken from me within _weeks_ of her leaving, not even the most patient of people would let me keep him. Danny was lying, he was going to take my son away from me, he knew I couldn't look after Buzz.

But I couldn't let him take him, Buzz was my baby, he couldn't take him from me, I needed him. And I could do better, I swore I could do better, if they just give me some guidance, I could do it. I really could, I just needed guidance and back up. That was all. I swore that was all.


	21. Chapter 21

**meandfriends44 - thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying it! And don't worry, I'm not stopping any time soon, I've got at least 80 more chapters to post and I'm nowhere near done writing!**

19 Harry's POV

"What the hell is going on in there?" Dougie asked at 2am, when Buzz had been crying for a solid hour with no let up. We weren't baby experts, but was that normal? Possibly, but still, surely there was something to stop him, so we could all _sleep_ for a while? Buzz had the energy to be up half the night and still run around like a maniac the next day, the rest of us didn't.

"No idea. Teething issues?" I suggested, not having a _clue._

"Tom usually sorts that easily enough." Dougie mumbled into his pillow, voice muffled.

"He does, do you think something's wrong?" I started to worry that maybe something was going on. Something serious, that was causing Buzz to be in this much distress.

"Maybe." Dougie sat up, "Should we check it out?"

"Probably." I got up, throwing on a dressing gown. Tom wasn't going to like the intrusion into his parenting, but when the baby had been crying for this long, we kinda had to check it out.

Padding down the halfway, the crying got louder, as did the voices.

"Tom I genuinely don't understand, why do you think this?" Danny was asking, what was he doing in Tom's room?

"She, she... I... I..." Tom was stuttered, sounding so distressed. What the _hell_ was going on?

"Everything alright?" I stepped in first, Dougie poking his head round the door gingerly.

Inside the room, Tom was backed against the wall, clutching Buzz incredibly close to him as the baby cried hysterically into his shoulder. A bag was half packed on the bed, clothes were strewn across the floor, and Danny looked incredibly confused and scared.

"I, I... please, I, I can do better. I-I can look after him! I can take care of him! I just, just need some guidance, I can do it." Tom pleaded... huh?

"Look after who? Buzz?" I was confused; then again, who else would Tom be talking about?

"You don't have to do better Tom; you're doing well as it is." Danny stepped closer, Tom pressed more against the wall, panic spreading further across his face, if that was possible.

"N-No, no don't lie. Please, please don't lie." Tom was crying, "I, I'm not. I-I can't, I'm not, I'm not capable."

"What? Of course you are!" Dougie spoke up, still only just standing in the door.

"That's not, that's not what she said. She, she warned me, made sure I knew you would take him from me, because I can't do it myself." Tom shook his head. Tom thought that we were going to take Buzz from him? How could he even think that?

"Who warned you?" I really wasn't getting this, who was saying that to Tom? Who was making him think that he couldn't look after his son by himself, to the point where he thought that we would _take_ Buzz from him? Who could be so cruel?

"S-She did." Tom glanced at his bedside table, where he had a photo from his wedding day. A photo of him and his _wife._ His now AWOL wife.

"She told you that we would take Buzz from you?" I couldn't... _she_ had said that? She had told Tom that? How... he could not be serious.

"She, she said that I wasn't, I couldn't _do_ this by myself. That I was useless with Buzz, that I-I'd screw him up. A-And that you would see how useless I was at everything, t-that I can't do anything right, and then you would take Buzz away, and leave me alone." Tom whispered, looking down at the floor in shame.

"But I can look after him, I can do better! I can raise him right I swear! I just need some guidance, that's all! I just need some guidance, a-and I'll get it right in the end. I just, I just need guidance, a-and patience. Please, just don't take Buzz away from me; I swear I can do it." Tom panicked, begging over and over that he could do this, that he could really look after Buzz, he just needed guidance and patience.

What the _hell_ had his wife done to him?


	22. Chapter 22

20 Dougie's POV

"Right, so let me get this straight, your _wife_ told you that Buzz would be taken from you, because you weren't capable of looking after him yourself?" Harry asked, Tom nodded sadly.

I couldn't believe it. Tom's _wife_ sparked this off, told Tom he wasn't capable of raising his son, that he would 'screw him up?' His _wife?_ She didn't... why the _hell_ would she say something like that? Why would anyone say anything like that to anybody? Let alone someone like Tom, who was clearly an amazing father? I didn't understand, why would she say something like that?

"I, why would she say something like that? Was this when she left?" Danny looked as confused as I felt. This didn't make sense, none of this made any sense. She couldn't have told him this, could she? Not even in the heat of the moment, and Tom couldn't believe it too. He couldn't honestly believe this.

"She, she said it all the time. Told me whenever I made a mistake." Tom whispered, he looked... the look on his face; it was _shame,_ so much shame. He actually believed this, truly _believed_ that Buzz would be taken from him. How many times had she said this to him? How many 'mistakes' had he made? Enough times to make the fear very, very real for Tom.

"Is she... what else did she tell you?" I was scared to find out the answer, I had a bad feeling that she was behind all of this. All the behaviour changes, the silence, the apologising. But if that was true, how hadn't we noticed before? How hadn't we noticed any changes in him? Had there been any changes before she left? I didn't know, I couldn't think, not past the fact that Tom's wife had been telling him that his son would be taken from him!

She couldn't have said that, she'd always been so nice. She'd never been cruel to any of us, or done any bad to any of us. Even to Tom, she had never been mean, not in our presence anyway. There hadn't been any _hint_ of it either. They'd always been happy, she had always been kind. She was a kind person, how could this be true? It couldn't be... but if Tom was saying it was, then it had to be, he wouldn't lie about his. He never lied to us.

"The truth." Tom answered, unable to look at any of us.

"What would that truth be?" Harry reached out to hold my hand, and stopped Danny from getting closer to Tom, who I doubted would open up more if we got any closer.

"You, you already know, you've been living here." Tom still wasn't looking at us, still holding his son close to his chest.

"Humour us, for a minute." Harry encouraged.

"If you don't mind." Danny continued, he'd gone worryingly pale at some point.

"Please, don't make me admit it, please." Tom begged, his hold on Buzz had to be painful, but nobody dared mention it, or try to step in. Not now, possibly not ever.

"Tom, we need to know. Just tell us." Danny pleaded him back.

Tom hesitated, then took a deep breath, seemingly readying himself. I felt my stomach fall through the floor in fear of what he was going to say next.

"She, she told me all about how stupid I am, how useless. I can't do anything right, even when I have a detailed list to go from. I can't do the simplest task by myself, or keep the house clean, or cook anything on time, or make it taste good. Buzz is never kept on schedule, I can't stop him crying, or get him to sleep, or play with him right. I didn't pay attention to any part of our relationship, and never made her feel wanted or loved, I was never home enough because we were out so often. I'm not good at talking to people, or being social in any way, I'm ugly." Tom was tearing up, but seriously looked like he believed all of this. He really, really believed it.

She had made him feel like this, his _wife;_ his damn _wife_ had made him feel this way, made him act like this. I couldn't believe it. I really couldn't believe that he had been told all of this, and that he believed it. How had... how the hell had this happened?


	23. Chapter 23

21 Danny's POV

I couldn't... Tom thought this? His wife had convinced him of _this?_ she had done this to him, made him think all those horrible things, change his behaviour, make him think that he would lose his son, even when he was doing the _best_ he could possibly do? What kind of woman was she? How could she be so cruel?

I'd always... she had always been so _nice_ to us. Seemed so normal. She had been a laugh; we'd all gotten along so well with her. I always thought of her as a really nice person, a good match for Tom, he had seemed so happy with her, always so happy. They'd been happy, laughing, joking together. I couldn't believe that behind closed doors she was filling Tom's head with so many awful thoughts. I would have never have thought it of her, she'd seemed so nice, a genuinely good human being.

"Tom," I whispered, unsure on what the hell to say to this. I was utterly speechless at it all.

"None of that is true, you're... you're not anything she said to you." Harry tried to say, the words came out incredibly quietly.

"They, they are. I-I can't... I'm not good, at this, any of this." Tom shook his head. Buzz had calmed down at some point, but was still looking incredibly upset, clinging to his dad's shirt. I hoped to God he wouldn't remember any of this in the future.

"You're, you're not. She, I have no idea why she said all those things, but they're not true." I argued gently, hoping Tom would believe it, or at least start to. He couldn't continue believing this, that he was incapable of _anything._

"I-It is, please don't lie to me. I'm not... Please don't lie to me." Tom pleaded, he was so scared, he looked _so_ scared.

"We're not, Tom I swear we're not lying. You aren't useless, or anything like that. Everything she said wasn't true in the slightest." I promised, Tom was brilliant, at everything. He was so hard working, and caring, and simply _brilliant._ Nobody should have ever told him anything different.

But Tom believed it, really, truly believed it, and nothing we said would change his mind. He was absolutely certain of everything his wife had told him, and was still certain that we were going to take Buzz away from him. He was refusing to move from his spot against the wall, wouldn't go anywhere else with us to talk about this properly, or do anything but cling to Buzz and refuse to believe us.

"Okay, how about if we all calm down and go to bed, it's late, we all need sleep." Harry suggested, hands up in innocence.

Tom's eyes widened, pulling Buzz closer to himself again.

"We won't take Buzz; honestly, we won't even go near him." I promised, Tom didn't look convinced.

"Lock the door, so we can't get in, if that makes you feel better." Dougie spoke up again, his poor face, he looked horrendously panicked. I didn't blame him in the slightest.

"I... I will be." Tom still didn't look entirely convinced.

"Okay then, we'll see you in the morning, and then we need to talk about this." I was _dreading_ the talk, finding out more about this, and how the hell we were going to sort this out. Could we sort this out? It seemed like Tom's beliefs were thoroughly cemented in his head, so could we really sort this out? I doubted it.

I couldn't sleep that night, so busy thinking about this, about how bad this situation had turned. I had thought that it was the divorce, combined with Tom's bipolar causing this; at least I had hoped it was. But this was worse, so much worse, than first thought. Tom's wife had been _abusing_ him, had been treating him like dirt, filling his head with awful things. How was that possibly...? How could she have done that to him? How could she have possibly done this? Why would she do this? I didn't understand why the hell anybody would do this to anyone; let alone why anybody would do this to _Tom._

He was such a sweet human being, did so much for us all. He had always looked after us, and worked so hard. And with Buzz, oh he was perfect with Buzz. He was the best father I had ever seen. He was incredibly attentive to him, gave him everything the little boy wanted. Before this, he'd always spend as much time with Buzz as possible, whether that be playing with him, reading with him, or simply just _holding_ him all the time. Tom was a _great_ father, and an even better human being. He did not deserve this treatment in the slightest. And I had no idea on how to fix this. How any of us where going to fix this.

Was there even a way to fix this?


	24. Chapter 24

22 Tom's POV

As soon as everyone left the room, I locked the door behind them, pressing my ear to the door to make sure I could hear anything that was said.

"We'll talk in the morning, just go to bed for now Danny." Harry was saying, sounding resigned. There were footsteps leaving, going back to their bedrooms, before the doors closed.

It was only then that I allowed myself to relax, to breathe out and let some of my guard down. No-one was here now, nobody could get in and take Buzz from me, it was fine, I had a stay of execution, at least until morning. Morning, when we would _talk_ about this... That wasn't going to be pleasant, considering how that had just gone. They were going to make me explain all my faults, everything I was doing wrong, exactly _what_ my wife had told me over the last few years. Maybe it was their way of cementing it in my brain, making sure I _knew_ how useless I was, and how thankful I should be that they were still putting up with me.

Or, or maybe it was a way to make me see that Buzz was better off without me. Wait; was that what they were doing? They couldn't... they couldn't do that, they couldn't... they would use it against me; use my faults and failures to prove that Buzz was better off without me. That's what she had done, had used it as proof that I should have _never_ become a father, should have never have even _tried_ for a baby. The only reason why we had was because she said it would look weird if we didn't at least try for one. We were married; we were supposed to have children, even when one parent wasn't cut out for it.

Buzz made a sniffing sound then, mumbling a few unintelligible syllables at the same time. He looked tired, and upset. Far too upset than a baby ever should. I had done that to him, made him look like that. All because I wanted to do this myself, keep him all for myself. And, I guess because I wanted to prove to her that I could do this, that I wasn't utterly useless. I wanted to prove it, prove that I could do _something_ right. It was what I had been trying to do ever since I had gotten home. I'd done exactly as she said to do, to leave him alone, keep him on schedule, feed him all the right things, made sure the house was clean. It still wasn't enough, was _never_ enough.

"Shh, shh Buzz, it's okay." I tried to reassure my son, wiping his nose with a tissue, "Daddy can do this, I swear Daddy can do this. He just needs some guidance, and a lot of patience." I really could, if I could just have someone tell me how to do this properly, then maybe, just _maybe_ I could manage.

Buzz didn't look impressed, or like he believed me for a second. In fact, he just looked miserable, and tired, and like he wanted to be anywhere but in my arms.

Who was I kidding? I was _awful_ at this; I couldn't do this by myself, even with guidance! Buzz wasn't doing well with me, he never slept through the night anymore, didn't play like he used to, and he certainly wasn't happy around me. He always looked miserable with me, tried to get out of my arms as much as possible. He only ever laughed now at Danny, Harry or Dougie, he only ever seemed happy with _them._ They weren't even fathers, hadn't had that much fathering experience, and they were already better than me at this. Me, who had had a _year_ to get better at this, who had gone to all the classes, read all the books, been there from the beginning.

Maybe Buzz would be better off without me. Maybe, maybe he would be better off with someone who knew what they were doing with him. Someone who could make him smile again, raise him right, not screw him up and make him miserable, like I was.

The thought was _devastating,_ but what could I do? Keep him selfishly? Allow him to grow up in a household where his own _father_ couldn't look after him properly, who only made him miserable? I couldn't do that. I couldn't allow that. I loved him so much, I loved him _so_ much, more than I could ever describe. And I wanted to keep him, wanted to keep hold of him for the rest of time. But I couldn't, not when I was so utterly _useless,_ not when I _knew_ I wasn't up for the job. I had to let him go.


	25. Chapter 25

23 Dougie's POV

I couldn't sleep, none of us could sleep. How could we sleep at a time at this? When we knew what we knew. We knew that Tom's _wife_ had been filling his head with all these lies? Making him feel useless and worthless, like he wasn't capable of anything? To know that all this time, she had been telling him this, beating him down, leaving him as this _shell_ of a human being, who was nothing more than a slightly emotional robot.

She had changed him into this person, had utterly broken him. To the point where he thought that _we_ would _take_ his _son_ from him. We would have never, would have _never_ had done anything else like that. We would have never thought to _dare_ to do something like that. We wouldn't take Buzz, we would help Tom through this, we would help him cope; give him support when he needed it, because he couldn't do this alone, especially in this mind set. But we would have never thought of taking him.

"What do we do Harry? What do we _do?_ " I was scared, so damn scared. What did we do? How could we stop Tom thinking like this? How did we bring the old him back, the one that didn't feel like this? The one who smiled, laughed, relaxed, _played with his son?_ Could we bring him back? I didn't know, and I was scared to find out.

"We... we help him. We tell him that he's a good father. That he can do anything he sets his mind to. We try to cheer him up. We... I don't know, I don't have a _clue_ how we help him." Harry ran his hands through his hair. His face was slightly green, like he felt sick at the thought of what had been done to Tom. I couldn't blame him; my stomach was churning at the thought of it all.

"Should we... the therapist, maybe he can help." I suggested, he'd seemed like he could help. And he had said that he would be available to talk to Tom if it was needed. At the moment if felt needed. Seriously needed.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll start with him... or maybe we should take him back to the one he saw when he was diagnosed, she knows more about Tom. Maybe, maybe he talked to her too, knew more about Tom's home life." Harry nodded, "If not, we'll find someone, someone who can help, who will know what to do."

"Would anyone actually know what to do?" I bit my lip, was there actually anybody who knew how to deal with stuff like this?

"I don't know. We'll have to ask. Right now, let's just... get hold of Fletch, and Carrie. See if either of them know the number of Tom's therapist, who diagnosed him." Harry got out his phone, texting our manager and Tom's sister, one of them must have had the number. We certainly didn't, we hadn't ever met Tom's therapist, hadn't really thought if important at the time, because it was personal to him. The same thing happened with me and mine, only Harry had met her, but only because he was my husband. Nobody else had.

"There's nothing else we can do right now, is there?" I wanted to _do_ something, going to bed and waiting until morning felt wrong. It felt like we were letting Tom down, like we weren't doing anything to help him. Just texting someone about a phone number felt like a tiny thing to do. Surely there had to be something else, something more immediate.

"No, not right now. At least, not until morning." Harry sighed, "I wish there was something else, but there isn't. Not until morning, when we're all more awake, and ready to talk." He didn't actually sound like he believed the 'ready to talk' bit. I didn't. The way Tom was acting in there, he was so defensive, I didn't think he was going to listen to a thing from us. Hell I doubted he was even going to believe that we weren't going to take Buzz from him.

"We're in for a long ride." I whispered, hugging my knees.

"We are, but we'll make it out, we'll manage it, somehow." Harry promised, "Let's just see how the morning goes, and go from there. We can't plan anything without all the facts."


	26. Chapter 26

24 Harry's POV

Waking up in the morning, I was filled with a sense of dread about what was going to happen now. We were going to be talking to Tom about what his wife had told him, going to be hopefully finding out the extent of what had happened to him. I _really_ could have done with _never_ finding out what his wife had done to him, but it was necessary, we had to find out, had to figure out exactly what had happened, no matter how painful. If not just to figure out how to fix Tom back to how he was, or at least find out why he was acting the way he did.

The main problem was going to be the whole 'taking Buzz away' mentality. Tom didn't believe us last night when we said that we wouldn't dare take his son away from him; I doubted that that would change today. But we had to try, and if trying to reassure him didn't work, well, time would, because Buzz wasn't going anywhere. He was staying with Tom, no matter what.

With a sigh, I rolled out of bed, waking up a half asleep Dougie, who had only gone half to sleep thanks to exhaustion, and a Danny who looked like he hadn't even closed his eyes once during the night. Not the best conditions, but we would have to work with it. None of us were going to relax any time soon anyway; we had to get the bad things out of the way, and then try to calm things down afterwards.

Tom took a while longer to arrive downstairs with us; it was well after breakfast in fact. And God, he looked like a _wreck,_ he wasn't okay in the slightest. He looked like he'd spent the night crying, and still looked like the slightest poke would set him off again. But, he was clearly freshly showered, hair done, dressed in reasonable clothes.

Buzz was sat in his car seat, playing with a toy giraffe, none the wiser to the state of his dad, or the fact that he was carrying a large bag.

"Tom..." I would be lying to say I hadn't anticipated something to do with the idea of Buzz leaving, but to see that he'd packed all of his bags and gotten ready to leave, after last night's insistence about keeping him, was heart breaking. Tom's face said it all; he truly thought that we would take Buzz off him, and that he _believed_ that he wasn't able to look after his son properly.

"Just, just m-make sure he, he goes to s-someone who c-can look after him. W-Who will love him, p-please." Tom could barely speak; he wouldn't even fight us, if we took the baby from him. He would actually let us take him; all the fight in him was gone. He was accepting this as inevitable, that fighting was useless. He believed that this was best for Buzz. He _actually_ believed that.

"Tom, no. We're not, we're not taking Buzz away, he's staying here, with you." I found it hard to speak, trying to figure out what this meant in my head. The amount of emotional abuse involved, it was huge... it was... how couldn't we have noticed this? How didn't _we_ notice what was going on?

"D-Don't, j-just don't." Tom pleaded, "I, I can't."

"You can, because you are more than capable of looking after him. You are more than capable." I tried again, "Put these down, and we'll talk about it, alright?"

"D-Don't try a-and convince me I-I can't do it, I know, I know a-already." Tom was shaking, his whole body was shivering almost violently as he tried desperately to hold in the tears.

"That's not what we're going to say," Danny spoke up, edging closer.

"That is something we would _never_ say Tom, I swear. Just, sit down a minute, and we'll talk all about it, alright?" I took the bag of Buzz's things, placing it on the floor, wishing I could do the same to the poor child, before the car seat was dropped by accident.

"Please, just talk to us; we can sort all of this out together." Danny pleaded, offering a watery smile.

"O-Okay." Tom gave in, collapsing into a chair.

Now, to try to get to the bottom of this.


	27. Chapter 27

25 Danny's POV

"Alright, let's start at the beginning," Harry took in a deep breath, "So, your wife told you that you weren't capable of looking after Buzz, and that he would be taken from you, because you couldn't look after him?"

Tom nodded, avoiding eye contact as he did so. He wasn't looking at Buzz either, like he couldn't bear to look at him, in case he was suddenly taken from him. It was... heartbreaking didn't even cover it actually. It felt like, it felt like everything had been shattered inside me, to know what had happened in this house. Tom had been treated like _dirt,_ and made to feel like he wasn't capable of anything, that he was a waste of space, and we hadn't noticed. I wanted to hit myself for not noticing Tom's pain, we were so close, and I had missed it like an idiot.

And that wasn't even including how Tom felt in all of this, the poor man clearly felt like hell. He _looked_ like hell, but his face couldn't have been showing even one tenth of what he was feeling. I'd never seen him this upset, not even in his bad days.

"And she told you that you couldn't do anything right, and a whole lot of other bad things, and she made you believe them." Harry continued, Dougie and I winced at the summary. It sounded so _simple_ like that, like it was nothing, when it was so damn horrible it made me want to hunt down Tom's wife and _kill_ her for what she had done to him.

"Y-Yes." Tom answered in a whisper.

"When did it start?" Harry asked, I let him lead, I didn't think I'd be able to speak during this.

Tom hesitated for a minute or two, we let him, not wanting to rush him, or spook him out of talking.

"She, she had always been dissatisfied with me, a-and had always pointed me in the right direction. But she was never happy after we got married. She didn't... she thought I was going to grow up, s-start acting like a man instead of a boy... start b-being able to do something other than fuck up. But, but I never managed it, a-and she got angrier and angrier the longer we were married." Tom continued whispering, staring resolutely at the table, "A-And then Buzz was born, and she started getting really annoyed with me, because I was so useless."

"So it got worse after Buzz?" Harry asked, Tom nodded again.

"It wasn't his fault though; none of it was his fault. It was mine, it was _all_ mine. Buzz was just being himself, as he should have been. She never got angry at him, or anything he did. She was always kind to him, and understanding of his mistakes, because he's a baby. It was me, always and constantly me. I was the one who screwed up all the time." Tom was quick to explain, like he thought we could possibly blame _Buzz_ for any of it.

He was so ready to blame himself for everything; I couldn't believe how ready he was to put himself in the line of fire. Even when it was obvious not his fault, and so clearly _her_ problem, he was blaming himself. He was so deep in this thought pattern, wasn't he? He completely and utterly believed it.

"Of course it wasn't Buzz's fault," Harry placated him, then seemed to take a second to take a breath again, "Did she ever... did she ever hit you? Or punish you in any way?"

I felt my stomach drop through the floor at the thought alone. To think we missed _this,_ let alone if we missed _physical abuse,_ was making me feel sick. _Please don't say she hit you, please don't say she hit you, please don't say she hit you._

"N-No, no she never hit me. Or punished me in any way. She was kind like that, patient, like I needed. She never punished me for anything I did, even when she should have." I felt even more sick when he looked _grateful_ for that, "She only ever shouted, told me when I was wrong. She never punished."

That, that was something at least. But it was still _awful_ to think all of this had been going on under this very roof. She had been destroying Tom, piece by piece, for _years,_ making him feel like he should be _grateful_ that she never _hit him._ No-one should have expected to be hit, or punished, for their so called mistakes, ever. No-one should have to feel like they should be hit for anything like this.

This shouldn't have happened, this should have _never_ had happened. Tom was the sweetest man, he did _not_ deserve this.


	28. Chapter 28

26 Tom's POV

"Tom, that isn't... that isn't how things are supposed to be." Danny sighed, like I didn't know that.

"I know, I was very lucky with the fact that she never wanted to punish me. She was very patient, far more patient than she should have been with me really. Anybody else would have started punishing within weeks." I knew I was lucky, so very, _very_ lucky, with the fact that my wife hadn't ever punished me like that. She had always been so kind, had barely raised her voice most of the time. She just told me the truth, and tried to guide me back to how I should have been acting.

"That wasn't what I meant, Tom she shouldn't have been saying anything like that to you, or treating you like she did." Danny continued, that didn't make any sense.

"How else was I supposed to know when I was doing wrong? I could hardly be allowed to continue on like I was." I couldn't have been allowed to continue on like I was; I would have screwed everything up. I screwed up enough as it was, how could I be allowed to continue without prompting, or helping?

"I, I can't, I'm sorry." Dougie got up and left. The bathroom door slammed soon after. I hadn't... had I forced him away? I hadn't meant to force him away! I was just telling the truth!

"Tom, this isn't... it's hard to describe, but this isn't right, not really. I think, I think you need to see someone." Harry suggested, that didn't sound all too good. I wasn't... _good_ at talking to others. I couldn't... articulating myself wasn't my strong point, and I was weird, most people didn't talk to me because I was so weird.

"Like who?" I didn't think there was anyone who would be willing to talk to me.

"Like, like your therapist, from a few years ago. I think they can help." Harry didn't sound like he believed that.

"But I'm not ill again; I'm taking my medications like I'm supposed to." I promised, I was, honestly. I hadn't missed a single dose. Not in years, I made sure of it, so I could never be accused of endangering Buzz that way with my mental illness. She had always warned me about that.

"I know you are, that's not what I meant... I mean to help you, with how you're feeling now. You're not... this isn't right, for you. You're erm... If you see them again, you can keep Buzz." Harry made Danny look at him sharply. I did too; I could keep Buzz if I saw them?

"Would it help me look after him better?" I hoped so; I'd do anything to help me look after my son better, so I could keep him. I wanted to keep him, so badly; I'd do anything to keep him. I'd learn everything I possibly could, and do the best I could to do to look after him. He was the only thing I had left, if I had a small chance of keeping him, I could take it.

"Yes, yes, that's the point. So do you have the number, so we can make an appointment?" Harry asked carefully.

"The numbers on my phone." I gave him my phone, "I haven't really seen her in a while though, I don't know if she will still be free." I felt ashamed of saying that. I didn't want them to think I was neglecting myself, or deliberating putting Buzz in danger. I had just... I had gotten myself under control, had a good routine going, I didn't need to be going to the therapist every week. I'd promised to go back if things started tipping again, but they hadn't, so I hadn't gone again.

Anyway, my wife had encouraged me to stop anyway, said that I was fine as I was. She wanted me to leave the minute I stabilised on the medications, but I wasn't allowed. She made me stop as soon as possible.

But maybe, this was a good thing, so I could learn the perfect parenting skills. So I could keep Buzz. Maybe I could then learn how to actually function and be good. Maybe I could actually learn, and actually be a good person. I needed that, needed it so badly. I hoped she would be able to help, or _someone_ could, at least.


	29. Chapter 29

27 Harry's POV

"What the _hell_ Harry? Did you _seriously_ just tell Tom that sending him to a therapist meant we would let him keep Buzz?!" Danny hissed the minute Tom had left the room. He'd only gone because Buzz was getting fussy, and needed feeding.

"Yes," it felt _wrong_ to hold it over Tom's head, and I felt so guilty over it, but I had my reasons, "How else do you think we were going to get him to agree to go? He doesn't think that there's anything wrong with this situation!" well he did, but he thought _he_ was the thing that was wrong, not what she did to him. Explaining that would have been impossible, it was easier to use something he thought he understood, something he would agree to. It was backhanded, and rude, and just plain _wrong,_ but what other choice did I have? I had none!

"Fine, but it was wrong." Danny was _not_ happy, not that I could blame him, not really.

"I know, I'm sorry. But, at least we got him to agree to see someone again, and maybe they can help." God I hoped they could, I seriously, seriously wished they could. If they couldn't, I didn't know what we were going to do.

"Yeah, I guess." Danny chewed on his lip, watching me dial the number.

The phone rang three times, before it was picked up. "Hello, Priory Therapy Centre, how can I help?"

"Hello, my name's Harry, I'm a friend of a patient you used to take care of," I cringed, remembering phoning up all those years ago, asking about Dougie, setting up meetings so I could see him, getting as much information as I could so I could help in some way or other, "His name is Tom, Tom Fletcher, he has bipolar disorder, and he was treated by a Natasha Barnes. We need to set up an appointment for him to see her again."

"Okay Sir, is Tom having a relapse of some kind? I need to know so I can explain the nature of the appointment to Natasha." The receptionist asked, one thing I liked about this place, they all went on a first name basis, so you didn't feel so uncomfortable talking to them. In other places, it was too formal, which made it feel so clinical and _wrong;_ at least here they acted like they were your friends, and not like they were trying to get inside your head.

"It's erm, hard to explain. Is it possible to talk to Natasha herself?" I hoped so, and I _prayed_ Natasha would know what to do.

"I can patch you through right now." there was a click, a few seconds silence, then the phone was picked up again.

"Natasha Barnes speaking." Another woman spoke, with a vaguely American accent.

"Hello, my names Harry," I repeated what I'd said previously, saying that we needed to make an appointment, and not because Tom had relapsed.

"What seems to be the problem then?" Natasha asked, my stomach twisted as I tried to figure out the words to describe this.

"Tom is... his wife, she left him about a month ago, a-and he hasn't been right since. Not because she left, well partially because she left, but also because she wasn't very nice to him while she here," that didn't explain anything! Damn it how could I explain this right?!

"She was... she told him things, made him believe things about himself which aren't true. He's erm, he's not himself now, and we don't... we don't know how to fix it, and we were hoping you do." I didn't know how to explain it, it was so simple in my head, but actually saying it out loud was so _hard._ Especially without being able to physically show this doctor the differences.

Natasha asked a few questions about the differences, and I managed to answer as best I could, explaining the 'taking Buzz away' thing, and his steadfast routines, and his refusal of help.

"Alright, this sounds like a bad case of emotional spousal abuse, and it's not something I specialise in. But I can take a look; see if there's anything I can do to help. I have a free appointment space on Friday, at 11am, is that convenient for you all?" Natasha asked.

"Yes, yes that's perfect. Thank you, we'll be there." Oh thank God, she could help. It wasn't her specialty, but if she could just _look_ at Tom, and maybe point us in the right direction, or at least give some tips on what to do, we could do this. I was sure of it; we could do this with the right help.


	30. Chapter 30

28 Dougie's POV

I felt sick, horrendously sick. So sick I was dry heaving into the toilet. Hearing Tom say those words, hearing him honestly _believe_ that he was _lucky_ and that he had found a _good_ and _kind_ wife, because she didn't hit him... I couldn't. I could _not_ hear that, not anymore. It hurt; it hurt everything, made my stomach twist so much I could hardly breathe. How was this possible? How had she done this to him? She made him feel like he deserved to be _hit_ and _punished_ for everything he did. I couldn't... I couldn't do this, couldn't hear anymore.

Tom's words echoed in my head repeatedly, until it was the only thing I could hear. It twisted my stomach so hard that the dry heaves turned into actually being sick. I'd been like this before, been filled with so much anxiety there was nothing I could do but throw up, but this was worse. This was _far_ worse. I felt like I couldn't breathe, like nothing would be okay again, like Tom was _never_ going to be the same again.

"Hey, hey, it's okay Doug, you're alright. I'm here now." Harry came in, gently starting to rub my back.

"I-It's not alright. I-It's never going to be alright again." it was never going to be okay, never, ever going to be okay. Tom was so messed up, believed some awful things. He thought we were going to _take his son_ from him, that he deserved punishment for things he deemed wrong. It was wrong, it was _so_ wrong. Everything was wrong now. How had everything gone so sideways so quickly?

It wasn't right, it really wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to be like this. A divorce was one thing, but this was completely different. This was... this was nothing any of us knew how to deal with. Bipolar, yeah we could deal with that, we had in the past. But this level of abuse? Of brain washing? Of screwed up thought patterns? We couldn't deal with this; we didn't have the first _idea_ of what to do.

"It will be Doug, I promise, everything will be okay soon. I just phoned up Tom's old therapist, she's agreed to meet with him on Friday. We're going to get him help now, and they're going to fix this, they're going to fix _all_ of this, I promise." Harry gave me some water to drink, before pulling me into his arms.

"I swear, we're going to make this okay, we're going to make things right again. Now that there's a therapist onboard, we can get to the bottom of what's been going on, and help rewrite it all." Harry was thinking wishfully here, I could tell. He didn't believe it was going to be that simple, because _nothing_ was that simple. Especially not with something like this, it was hard work, an uphill struggle; there were setbacks, times when you took two steps forward and one step back. It was _hard,_ and took _months,_ if not _years._

"It's not; it's not going to go well. We're not; Tom's... therapy isn't easy." I knew it wasn't, had been there myself, it was _hard._ But addiction and depression was one thing, this was... this was something else entirely.

"I know it isn't. But it's possible to get better, and Tom is going to get better, I promise Doug. The therapist is going help, she helped him before, she can help again. If not her, then someone else will. There is someone out there who can bring our Tom back, fix these thoughts in his head, I swear we will get him back, he won't think like this forever." Harry kissed my hair, rocking me back and forth until I didn't feel as nauseas.

"I'm not going to lie and say it's going to be easy, because it isn't. There's probably going to be a lot of tears, and pain, and Tom isn't going to believe a word we say at first. Currently he's agreed to go to see his therapist, because he thinks it means he gets to keep Buzz, and what I'm hoping is that she's going to help him see sense, or at least start to realise that what happened wasn't okay. For now though, we've just got to do our best with him, and help him however we can." Harry made me look at him, "But, if _you_ need me, then you tell me, okay? When it gets too much, or you need to talk, or anything, you _come to me._ I don't want you suffering by yourself, or feeling afraid or alone. If you need me, you _have_ me, I promise."


	31. Chapter 31

29 Tom's POV

I really didn't know what to do with the idea of going to therapy again. My wife had never liked me going, always thought it made me seem weak and useless, and she pulled me out as soon as she thought I was able to control myself better. She hadn't ever seen the point of me going through more therapy when I was under control of myself again, and I had medication to help me as well. She hadn't liked the medication either, not really. She let me take it, but only because she couldn't handle my mood swings anymore.

So going back again, it was worrying. I didn't know what was going to become of me, or what was going to happen when I got there. But, Natasha was going to help to teach me how to look after Buzz, so I could keep him. I wanted to keep him; I wanted _so badly_ to keep him with me. I was convinced that he would be better off without me at the moment, but maybe if I learned how to be a good dad, I'd get to keep him. Maybe I'd be _able_ to keep him. I would do absolutely anything to keep my son, absolutely _anything._

The Friday came along quickly, and soon we were all in the car to go to Natasha's office. Harry knew the way because he had driven Dougie down here lots of times when he was struggling with things. But I knew the way too, so why _everyone_ was in the car, I didn't know. Surely I could have just taken myself and Buzz, while everyone stayed at home? They didn't need to come with me, I did know the way.

"We thought we'd come along for moral support." Danny explained when I told them that they could have stayed home. He looked nervous though, and I couldn't quite understand why.

"Yeah, and you're probably going to be exhausted after a session, so I thought it best if we drove you here and back, so you don't have to worry about driving." Harry explained, that sounded reasonable, I guessed.

"Thank you, but there really is no need, I can drive." It was one thing I _could_ do. I could drive, and drive well. I never sped, or parked in the wrong places, and always followed the sat nav when I needed it, and when there was no traffic, I always got there on time. Driving was something I could actually do.

"I know, but let us do this for you, okay? We want to be helpful, in any way we can, and if that involves us driving you to and from therapy, then so be it." Harry smiled, so I let it go. There was no point in arguing, and I knew what it was like to want to be helpful. I couldn't deny anybody wanting to be helpful; it's all I wanted to do too.

The car drove up to the building I used to go to for therapy, and getting back to the old office was easy enough. It was almost muscle memory, even after all these years.

"Tom, good to see you again, how have you been?" Natasha asked as she opened her office door, immediately shaking my hand.

"Better, taking my medications every day, just as I promised." It was good to start with that, prove I could do something right, that I wasn't utterly _crazy_ or something.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that. I understand you're here because you want some help in looking after Buzz?" Natasha looked between the five of us, lingering on my band mates a few seconds longer than me.

"Yes, I erm... my wife, she left. And I just... I need some help, I'm not... I'm not doing this quite right." I was ashamed to admit to being so useless, but it had to be done. First step to doing better was admitting there was a problem, right?

"I see, come in, all of you come in, so we talk about things further, figure out where things are going well, and where they're not." Natasha ushered us in.

There was no turning back now, was there?


	32. Chapter 32

30 Danny's POV

Natasha's office was nice, for a psychiatrist's office anyway. It was nicely decorated with pale blue walls, and only a few pictures up on the walls, mostly of calming things like sunsets. Nothing like what I imagined... then again I had been imagining white padded walls, no colour or life, and a feeling that everything you said was wrong. This was completely different, like everything said in this room was safe, that _we_ were safe here. Problems could be solved here, things could be discussed, and everything would be fine.

"Okay, well I know Tom, why don't you three introduce yourselves?" Natasha started, sitting behind her desk, which also wasn't that opposing, or scary looking.

"Well, I'm Harry, this is Dougie, and that's Danny. And Buzz is obviously over there with Tom." Harry pointed to everyone in turn.

"And you know that I'm Natasha. How about if we start from the beginning, how has this come about?" she leant back, looking very open to whatever we said.

But none of us knew how to start, how did we even _start_ to explain this? How did you ever explain that everything has gone wrong, that your best friend's wife abused him emotionally and had utterly wrecked him? How did you explain that, especially when the person you were talking about was in the room, and believed you were all there to help him learn how to parent, so he could keep his son?

"Tom, how about if you start." Natasha prompted after a few minutes of silence.

"O-Okay. I erm... my wife, she, she left suddenly. She couldn't... she couldn't take trying to handle me anymore, and she left. A-And I can't... I'm useless, at everything. We're, we're here so you could possibly teach me how to look after Buzz, so, so he isn't taken from me." Tom looked so utterly _ashamed_ of himself as he said it. No matter how many times he repeated this lie, he always looked ashamed. Like he was waiting for someone to hear what he was saying, and to agree with him, and do something terrible to him because of it.

I was suddenly very thankful Buzz was barely a year old, so he didn't understand a word of what his father was saying. The poor boy would be scarred for life if he could understand what Tom was saying about himself.

"And why would Buzz be taken from you? What exactly makes you useless?" Natasha asked gently, though I could tell she was worried for the answer.

"Because I'm useless, at everything. I don't feed him right, put him to bed on time, play with him wrong. I can't do the shopping correctly, or keep the house clean, I'm never home because we as a band are so busy usually, when I am home I can't be social like everyone else is. I can't do the simplest thing by myself, or stop Buzz from crying when he's upset. I neglected her in our relationship, so I'll probably end up neglecting Buzz too." Tom's voice cracked, my brain was _screaming_ at me to hold him, to tell him he was wrong, that this was all completely _wrong._ But I couldn't, I couldn't interrupt him now, and even if I could, I couldn't get him to believe me anyway.

"I just, I just probably shouldn't be allowed to look after him. Not without help anyway. He deserves better than me." Tom whispered, pulling his son closer to his chest. Buzz didn't seem to notice, too busy playing with the toy he had brought with him.

"What changed your mind?" Natasha asked, "Why did you decide to keep Buzz, and not give him away, if you thought it best for him?" what kind of a question was that?! Wasn't that reinforcing Tom's belief that he shouldn't be a dad?

"I love him, with everything. He's, he's everything. I didn't want to send him away, not if I didn't have to. So when Harry said you could help me be a better father, I agreed straight away. I want to learn, I want to be good to him, want him to feel loved and happy, and if I can do that, I will." Tom answered, with so much conviction, "I'm not good at learning things, but I can learn this, I'll do _everything_ I can to learn how to be good for Buzz."

"Alright, well I may be able to help you here. But to get a real idea of what needs to be worked on, I think I need to talk to your friends first. They're more objective than you are, as to what needs to be worked on. Would you mind waiting outside for a bit while we talk?" Natasha was saying this like it was normal. Like this was actually _normal,_ that Tom's thoughts were real. It made me feel sick, even though I knew we had to go along with it for now.

"O-Okay." Tom paled; I didn't even want to _think_ of what he was thinking of right now.

"We won't be discussing the option of you losing Buzz, don't worry. We are just talking about areas of improvement for you." Natasha smiled, how could she read his mind like that? Why couldn't I do that? Why wouldn't we all read his mind and reassure him like that?

"I, I know." Tom nodded, looking like he didn't believe a word, "I'll be outside." He stood, leaving with Buzz again. Which left me, Harry, Dougie and Natasha, to talk about what was _really_ going on around here.


	33. Chapter 33

31 Harry's POV

Natasha watched Tom with a concerned look as he walked out with Buzz, shutting the door softly behind him.

"Do you think you can help him?" I asked, trying desperately to not appear like I was too nervous about this. But she _had_ to be able to help, we didn't know anybody who could help, Natasha needed to help. We couldn't... we needed a professional to get Tom back to how he was, or at least stop him thinking like _this._

"Well, from what I just saw, Tom's been in a very bad situation for a very long time. Is he always so open with how useless he feels?" Natasha still sounded sympathetic. We needed sympathetic; Tom needed a kind person to look after him right now.

"Yes, he, he took some convincing at first, when we were trying to get out of him what had happened, but when we got him to talk, that basically came out." I answered, _hating_ saying it, hating the entire situation. This felt wrong, talking about Tom behind his back, telling his secrets to this woman. But how else were we going to explain what was going on? It wasn't like we could trust Tom to say the right thing here! He didn't even believe he had been abused in the first place!

"And how did that conversation come about?" Natasha questioned us about the past few weeks, from the day we found Tom in his house, all the way to now. She asked about the times before, if there was any sign of anything being wrong in his marriage, but we couldn't think of anything.

Whenever we had been around Tom, he'd been fine with us, like he had always been. He had laughed and joined in with us, had worked hard when we had, there hadn't been anything there that looked wrong at all.

"Did he ever initiate a playful act? As in, start a play fight first, or suggest doing something ridiculous?" Natasha asked... I didn't think he did.

"Not from what I remember, no. But he's always been the sensible one, who told us we were doing something stupid. He's sort of been band mother since day one." Danny answered, chewing his fingernails again, radiating anxiety, as he had been all morning.

"Yeah, and whenever he was more hesitant, or less interested in whatever we were doing, we figured he was having a bit of a bipolar dip." It was what I'd always assumed anyway. Tom didn't join in with us as much when he was depressed, and had always been more self conscious, and angrier than normal. Anytime he acted like that, I put it down to his bipolar.

Unless it was his wife causing it, what if his behaviour had been more because of his wife? What if she had been making him pull back, become more hesitant in playing about and being happy? I suddenly felt so guilty for dismissing any of his behaviour. I shouldn't have put it down to bipolar, should have investigated further, maybe I could have stopped this sooner, if I had just _asked._

"Don't blame yourself Harry, self blame doesn't help Tom, and doesn't change the past either. What has happened, has happened, and blaming yourself is only going to make you feel worse." Natasha reassured me, apparently noticing my worry, "Trust me when I say nobody would have noticed this, not without training, and knowing what they were looking for."

"Didn't you pick up on anything during your therapy sessions with Tom before?" Danny stopped chewing his nail, probably scared of what Natasha would say in response to it.

"I'm afraid I wasn't looking for signs of abuse, I was focused on helping Tom cope with bipolar. Admittedly, I did think it was suspicious that he quit therapy so soon, but I thought he was coping well, and told him to come back whenever he had a problem, or just needed to talk. It isn't uncommon for patients to leave once they've stabilised on their medications, so I let it go." Natasha explained, her face changing to one of guilt herself, before she focused back on us.

"But like I said, there is no point in dwelling on the past. So, here is the most important question, is Tom a danger to Buzz? He seems convinced that he's not capable of looking after him, but is there any truth in there? I hate to ask, but I have to in a situation like this." she turned serious, looking at us each in turn, like it would compel us to tell the truth, like we would lie here.

"Of course not! Tom is a _great_ father to Buzz, he couldn't be more attentive!" I defended him straight away; Tom didn't pose any threat to Buzz whatsoever. No matter how bad things got, I knew that Tom would never hurt Buzz, or neglect him...

Okay, so there was that initial day when we found them in the house, but since then he hadn't neglected him in anything, apart from play time. But we had stepped in then, and if he needed any help, then we were now there to step in. Buzz couldn't have been safer.

"Tom's really good! Buzz is always well fed, and bathed, and is kept on a routine. He gets enough sleep, has Tom to soothe him when he's teething, anything he needs, Tom gives him straight away." Danny agreed, almost clambering out of the chair in his desperation to explain.

"Honestly, Tom is great with Buzz. He's hesitant to play with him, but that's because of what his wife has put in his head. She made him think that he's going to make Buzz grow up wrong if he carries on playing with him like he does. But he played with him like everybody does with babies; there was nothing wrong with it." I explained as best as I could, remembering watching Tom crawl around the floor with Buzz, tickling the baby, reading him stories, giving him so many hugs, everything that was expected of a parent. He had been the ideal parent; Buzz hadn't been in more capable hands if he tried.

"Okay, so now he keeps him healthy, but doesn't play anymore? How does he interact with him?" Natasha questioned.

"It's more... he feeds him, cleans him up, soothes him when it's needed. But when Buzz is playing, Tom just watches now. He watches like a hawk, making sure Buzz doesn't come to harm, but he doesn't join in. His playful streak is gone entirely." I answered, hoping that was good enough of an explanation. It was good, right? Oh God please don't let Natasha think that Tom was an awful father, and take Buzz from him! Not after we promised him he wouldn't be taken!


	34. Chapter 34

32 Harry's POV

This was getting worrying; I didn't like the idea of Natasha asking about Buzz. She obviously had to, but did she have to ask like it was an actual possibility that Tom wasn't capable of looking after his son? He was a good father; he was such a good father. Having Buzz taken from him would break him even more. Tom needed his son, especially right now. He needed him more than anything.

"Tom is honestly brilliant as a dad, he couldn't be better. He just needs help, in getting back to how he was before his wife got her claws in." I hurried to explain, hoping Natasha believed me. She had to believe me, she _had_ to believe me.

"Are you sure about this? It's okay to say if Tom is not coping as a father. It would be good for Buzz in the long run if he can be taken from harm now, before anything bad happens to him." Natasha gave us sympathetic looks, like we were lying. We weren't lying!

"Tom's perfectly good as a father, we swear! Buzz can't be taken from him, and doesn't need to be! Everything that child needs, Tom provides for him!" I promised, begging her to believe us. We couldn't go back on our promise; we couldn't take Buzz away, not when we'd promised we wouldn't. Tom would never trust us again, would never forgive us. Hell he would never forgive _himself_ if he lost Buzz.

"A-And anything else that's needed, we can give him! We're always around the house, we play with Buzz, and if Tom's having a bad day, we can look after Buzz ourselves! He doesn't need to be taken away, we can look after him." Danny jumped to say too, "Please don't take Buzz away, please. Tom needs Buzz, more than you can imagine. And Buzz needs Tom, they're all they have left, please don't separate them."

"Alright, I was just making sure. I'm sorry to have asked, but I have to in situations like this. Luckily, Tom's wife left before she could cause some lasting damage in Buzz emotionally... Was there any sign of _any_ type of abuse in the child?" Natasha made us all cringe at the mention of abuse.

It still didn't feel real that Tom was _abused._ It just... things like that couldn't happen to us. We'd been through so much in the last few years, we deserved happiness now. We had all thought that we were happy now, but somehow Tom had been _abused._ He had actually been abused and broken down by his _wife,_ how was that real? It shouldn't have been real.

"No, not as far as we know." I shook my head.

"He, he never had bumps or bruises, or looked to be in pain." Dougie spoke up for the first time, his tiny hands clinging to mine. He was scared here; he hadn't been scared of therapists in such a long time. He hadn't been scared of them since his stay in this building; I _hated_ seeing him scared like this.

"Yeah, he was always so happy, a-and never looked like he had been hurt. He was just like any other little boy." Danny agreed, at least that was something we could all be thankful for. That little baby Buzz had been left unscarred by all this, that he hadn't been touched in all this horror.

"Good, that's good, something to be grateful for, so we only have to worry about Tom and his state." Natasha seemed to be thinking for a minute.

"So, do you think you can help Tom?" I asked, hating to push her, but needing to know.

"I think I can. I'm not going to say that it's going to be an easy fix, or that there's going to be immediate improvement, but I think I can do at least some good. If I can't, I will give you the numbers of several other psychiatrists who I think are more likely to help. Right now though, I think I'll be able to help." Oh thank God, thank _God._


	35. Chapter 35

33 Dougie's POV

She could help, oh thank God Natasha could help. We needed all the help we could possibly get, we needed her to make Tom whole again. we couldn't do it alone, none of us knew where to even start, but Natasha could. Natasha had helped him before, and the people here could help any problem, I knew that from my own experiences. These people were good, they could help. I had faith in that.

"Will, will you make Tom stay here?" I asked, I wanted him to come home with us, but maybe a stay would help. To get him away from the memories of the house, all the photos to remind him of his wife and her teachings. It could help him focus.

But if he did, what about Buzz? Would he be able to keep him? Would that be possible? I hadn't seen any children when I was here, not unless they were visiting. We couldn't separate Tom and Buzz like that, could we?

"No, not currently. I don't think that will do him any good, taking him out of his routine, the things he finds comfort in, will distress him more than it will help. Tom needs stability, and things he can rely on, staying in his house will allow that for him." Natasha explained, "The only reason why we bring people in to stay, is because they are a danger to themselves, or others." Harry winced at the implication of that, his arm wrapping protectively around me. I squeezed his hand in turn, reminding him that I was still with him.

"Good, that's good... How do we move on then? What can we do to help you?" Harry changed the subject, his thumb stroking my hand.

"Okay, well in therapy, I will probably start out talking to Tom like I'm helping him build parenting skills, asking him what his wife has told him he does wrong, and help him to see how he's doing things _right._ This will start to break down the association in his brain between what he does and being wrong, and I'll use that as a way to get to the main problem. Hopefully, I'll use this as a basis to make him realise that his wife has abused him emotionally, and start to change his way of thinking, and help him to come to terms with what has happened to him. As for what you can do to help, all I need is for you to support Tom. If he wants to talk, let him, if it's too difficult to help him, then get him on the phone to me as soon as possible. He's going to emotional, and very confused, and probably very fragile, so he's going to need support." Natasha explained.

"We can support him, we've done lots of support in the past." Danny nodded enthusiastically.

"I don't doubt that you can. But one thing we want to avoid is smothering him, or making him transfer his dependence on his wife, to you. When I say you need to support him, I mean that you need to give him emotional support when he needs it, encourage him to play with his son, to do things he enjoys, without pushing too far. Whatever he needs support with, give it to him. But you can't mollycoddle him, or treat him like he can't do anything. Treat him like a friend, like he's capable of anything he wishes, try to joke with him, get him to do things he enjoys, without pressuring him too far." Natasha warned, "It's a very hard balance, but if you have any questions about it, please don't hesitate to call me either. I'm not just here for Tom, I'm here for you all. And this will be hard on you all, but I promise to do whatever I can to get you all through this."

"We're all so close, can we... are we allowed to hug him? Or let him share a bed, if he wants the support? We used to all the time, so it would be treating him like normal." Danny asked, his nails chewed to the quick.

"You can certainly hug Tom, especially when he needs it, which he will do eventually. As for sharing a bed, that's a bit trickier. I understand that you're all incredibly close, and share a bond unlike anything I've seen before. You used to bed share, and do all sorts of things like that when you were younger, and I'd say to do it sparingly. Sharing a bed creates a bond between people, and it is possible that by sharing a bed with Tom regularly will transfer his need from his wife to you, which isn't healthy. He needs to learn to stand by himself, without relying on others. If he wants it, then consider the situation before agreeing." Natasha answered, I didn't know if I'd be able to tell him no. I didn't want to say no to him ever again, or deny him _anything._ Tom had had so much taken from him, nothing else could be taken.

"What about Buzz? Is Buzz allowed to stay with him? And what should we do with him too?" Harry asked, reaching out and taking Danny's hands from his mouth, holding them in his own instead.

"In that case, Buzz is an exception, as he is a baby. I'd only say to monitor it, and keep me informed in that regard. As for what you should do, treat Buzz like you would any other child. Play with him, make a fuss, and most importantly, keep an eye on how Tom treats him. If _anything_ seems wrong, tell me straight away." Natasha made it sound so serious, but what could Tom do to Buzz? And what harm could we do by being close to Tom?


	36. Chapter 36

34 Danny's POV

It was hard to get my head around, all the things we had to remember when interacting with Tom. We had to be kind to him, support him when he needed it, without smothering him or treating him like he was incapable. I never treated him like he was incapable of anything anyway, but how was I supposed to watch out for him transferring his need for guidance onto us? How were we supposed to do that?

I didn't want to stop myself from hugging him, or treating him like I wanted to, but if I had to, I had to, to stop him from being further screwed up. Still, it felt like an impossible task, one that was going to so hard to try and get through.

Of course, we had Natasha at our disposal, whenever we needed her, but it was still going to be hard to figure out. There was going to be so much trial and error, so much to try and figure out, without letting Tom know what we were doing. If he figured it out, I didn't know what he was going to think. I didn't want to think we were conspiring against him, or trying to treat him differently to how we usually would. I wanted him to feel loved, and accepted, and most importantly, _capable._ He needed to feel capable, that was so important. He needed to feel like he could do things by himself, and do things well. He needed it, more than anything.

Leaving Natasha's office, we found Tom sitting on the chair outside, wiping the mushed up banana off Buzz's face, after apparently feeding the child. He looked miserable, and very worried, looking at Buzz like it was the last time he would ever see him.

As I watched him I was confused, and worried about what we were going to do. Even with Natasha's advice, it was difficult to figure out how to treat Tom from now on. He was fragile, but didn't believe himself to be, and we couldn't make him worse by treating him too much like he was.

"Right, home time then? Before the little one gets too restless?" Harry suggested, nodding towards Buzz, who was starting to squirm a bit in Tom's arms. I don't think Tom had put him down since we arrived here, nearly two hours ago.

"I need to feed him too." Tom agreed, "I mean, I brought snacks. But I didn't, I didn't know how long this was going to take. But if we get home within the next hour, Buzz won't miss his usual dinner time." he seemed to panic a bit, like he thought that we thought he had made a massive mistake.

"No problem with that Tom, if I had realised myself, I would have directed you to the canteen, so you could eat. We'll keep it in mind for next time instead." Natasha waved him off, she was so good at that already. Knew how to dismiss his worries without it making it sound like Tom was being stupid, or like he was a complete failure. Just like he had let something slip his mind, like everyone did. Which was all this was, a simple mistake that _anyone_ could make. Hell I made bigger mistakes on a daily basis.

I needed to learn how to do that, how did she learn how to do that? Was it a psychiatrist thing? Must have been, they all seemed to be able to do that. Or at least, they did on TV.

"Or bring more food." I piped up, hoping to help. Did that help? Oh God I didn't know anymore? Was this useful, or was I making it worse? I didn't know anymore!

"Yeah, or, or that." Tom nodded again, in that desperate 'please don't shout at me' way he did now. It broke my heart, but I refused to let it show. Instead I turned down the hall, everyone following along behind, hoping to get home soon. Even after meeting Natasha, this place still didn't feel right to be inside.

Maybe it was the fear of Tom being taken from me, or being told that Tom was unable to be helped. Whatever it was, I just didn't like being here anymore, it made my skin crawl.


	37. Chapter 37

35 Tom's POV

Meeting dates and times were sorted, we went home, fed Buzz, and everything moved on like every other day of the week. I looked after Buzz as best as I could, ultimately ending up watching my band mates look after my child. They made him light up in ways I never could, he was _active_ with them, and laughed so much too, he was genuinely happy with them, with me he never seemed satisfied. Sure, he held onto me when I picked him up, and let me feed, bathe and put him to bed, but he wasn't as happy as he was when he was with Danny, Harry and Dougie.

And Danny, Harry and Dougie seemed happier when they were with him too. They seemed to smile more, and laugh, and play about, more than they did when it was just us after Buzz went to bed. In fact, I'd say it was downright _awkward_ when it was just us. Nobody seemed to know what to talk about, or what to do in general. I took to escaping upstairs, going back to trying to write a song or two in between Buzz waking up with teething issues. I never got very far, didn't seem able to even come up with the simplest melody, or a lyric that didn't revolve around being utterly _useless_ at everything.

I just felt so _helpless_ right now, helpless and out of place. Nothing I did seemed right, nobody knew what to say to me, or what to do when I was in the room. Sure, they _tried_ to be kind, and give me encouragement to join in with my son's play, but it seemed so forced. Like they were doing it out of a misplaced need to have me there, even though I had _no idea_ about what I was doing, and was going to get everything wrong. I always got it wrong, didn't have a clue on where to start, or what to do with anything. Give me a cleaning list, or a shopping list, and at least I had a chance of getting something right. Playing with my son? Talking to other adults? I had no hope, and no clue on how to do it.

Maybe Danny, Harry and Dougie were starting to realise that, maybe they had had their eyes opened at that first therapy session. I wouldn't have been surprised to be honest, their chat with Natasha had been very long, and obviously extensive. Maybe hearing all my faults out loud had made them all realise how serious this situation was, that I really was useless, and not just in shock over my wife leaving. Or, or maybe they were getting annoyed with having to sort out everything for me. I wouldn't have been surprised, I wasn't exactly good at getting myself organised. I should start getting good at that though, I was supposed to be improving myself through therapy. I should have made a start by getting myself organised, without the help of others.

And that's exactly what I did, on the day of my next therapy session, I got up and got myself and Buzz ready, packed food and toys for my son, along with the rest of the essentials, and set off for the therapy office, all by myself. I managed to be early too, if only because I had started getting ready two hours before I was meant to leave. But it was better than running late, right? It had to be better than running late. I couldn't run late anymore, I had to be on time, had to be in charge of myself.

"Hello Tom and Buzz, welcome back. Are the boys lagging behind today?" Natasha greeted us as we arrived at the office, perfectly _on time._

"No, no they're not behind. They're at home, I drove myself." Because I could drive well, I knew I could drive well. Very well in fact. I was good at that. I was incredibly careful, always drove at the speed limit made sure I didn't do anything dangerous, made sure we stayed out of the way of any car that could possibly be hazardous. Buzz was always strapped in tight, and slept through most journeys, because I made sure to drive on the smoothest roads possible.

"Oh, oh alright. I didn't realise that, do they know you've come by yourself?" Natasha asked, looking concerned.

"I left a note on the table." I hadn't wanted to wake them, or disturb them in their own morning routines. I thought a note on the table would have been a good, organised thing to do. It was a good and organised thing, right?

"Ah, that makes sense. Though, next time, I think you should talk to them first, to make sure that they definitely know you're coming by yourself, they could be worried about where you both are." Natasha advised, I hadn't thought of them worrying.

"Sorry, I didn't think of that. I'll remember it next time." I would make sure I remembered that, along with everything else Natasha taught me. I was going to remember _everything_ and do everything she said. I was going to get better at this, I was going to be a good dad, and a good person. I wasn't going to be useless anymore, I was going to be good, I was determined to be good.


	38. Chapter 38

36 Danny's POV

The week between the first therapist appointment and the second was...awkward to say the least. I don't think any of us knew what to do now, what with the advice from Natasha saying that we couldn't mollycoddle him, or do anything that could make Tom transfer his need for his wife to us. It was so hard to figure out what to do, what to say. Did we encourage Tom to join in playing with Buzz? Did we help him with his daily tasks? It was hard to figure out what to do, how to talk to him.

And I could tell that Tom picked up on it too, he spent less time with us now, disappearing upstairs. He was so awkward when he was with us, or just with Buzz. He was struggling _so much,_ and none of us knew how to help. Everything felt wrong, like we were treating him like a child, or like there was something seriously wrong with him. Well, there was something wrong with him, but Tom didn't know that... or at least he thought the wrong thing was wrong with him.

The problem was, Tom started to go to therapy by himself. He just left a note on the kitchen table and left with Buzz, generally before any of us got up. God knew what he did while waiting for his therapy session to start, but he just left. Drove himself there and back, took Buzz with him, made sure the boy had toys and food through the session, and was generally just being very independent.

Not that being independent was a _bad_ thing, because it certainly wasn't. It was just that... I wanted to go with him. I wanted to make sure that he was safe, and that things were going well. I wanted to ask Natasha questions, make sure she knew what was really happening around here. Tom wasn't good at explaining things properly, he had a warped view of what was going on around him, I didn't know what he was telling Natasha. And if she didn't know the truth, then how was she supposed to help him?

"Maybe you should phone her." Harry suggested, after Tom had disappeared upstairs for the night.

"Isn't it a bit late for that?" It was nine in the evening, surely it was too late to phone her now?

"She said day or night." Harry pointed out, so I phoned her, putting the call on speaker so everyone could hear.

"Hello?" Natasha answered after three rings.

"Hello, it's Danny, Harry and Dougie. We're Tom's friends, and we were wondering if we could as how things are going, and maybe give some insight into what's going on now?" I made it sound like it was a question, so she could say no if she wanted.

"Erm, alright then, what do you want to know? I can't give much away, because of patient confidentiality, but I can do my best to answer your questions." Natasha answered, I'd forgotten about that, she wouldn't be able to tell us much now.

"Well, how is he doing for starters? He's... Tom's not really changing that much." I had expected some change. A change in his behaviour, even the tiniest bit, but there was nothing. Nothing but him taking himself off to therapy by himself, almost like he was ashamed to be going.

"He won't be changing that much at the moment, as these things take time. Tom's not going to instantly change after every session, he's going to remain as he is for a while, until I can get through to him." Natasha explained, I really should have expected that, but he just... he wasn't even playing with Buzz yet, he was still working himself flat out with various household jobs, and looking after him.

"We are working on playing with Buzz during our sessions, I'm trying to get him to join in with his son, but it's taking time. Tom's spent a lot of time not being involved with his son, further than the basics of parenthood, breaking that is very difficult." Natasha answered, when I explained my thoughts.

"Oh, is there anything we can be doing to help that?" Harry asked, hand stroking through Dougie's hair to calm him.

"Just continue to encourage him, invite him to play, try to get him to join in. Obviously, don't force him into joining in, but try to get him involved in some way. Even if it's just keeping hold of the toys Buzz has been playing with." Natasha made it sound difficult, it sounded difficult. But we would do it, or at least try our best to do it at the least.

We spoke for a long time, trying to get as much advice as we could, as well as any information about Tom's treatment and his mental state. It all sounded so hard and complicated, but we were determined to get things done. We were going to work through this, and get things done. We were going to help as much as we could, and hopefully make sure that Tom had the best support network he could possibly have.


	39. Chapter 39

37 Tom's POV

"Today I want to talk about how you interact with Buzz, if that's okay." Natasha started our session, after I had gotten Buzz settled on my lap, playing with his toy.

"O-Okay." I hoped she could give me some instruction on how to interact with him. I wanted to be able to play with him right, and hold him properly, and do everything like a good dad should. I couldn't right now, didn't have a clue how, I needed so much help here.

"How often would you say that you hug your son? And I don't mean holding him like you are now, but actually _hugging_ him, or giving him kisses?" Natasha started, the look on her face saying that whatever I said would be okay. But it wasn't okay, it really wasn't okay. Whatever I said was wrong, I knew I was wrong in how I did things. My wife used to tell me constantly.

"I, I hug him whenever he's upset... Not that he's always upset, but when he's teething, things like that, to soothe him, like you should. A-And I kiss him when he wakes up and when he falls asleep." I answered, I didn't really... I had been shouted at often, for coddling him too much.

"Oh, and that's all?" Natasha seemed shocked. I knew it was wrong, _knew_ it was completely wrong. I couldn't even show my son love correctly.

"I, my wife... she always told me I held him too much." She used to hug him right, and kiss him properly, and everything else. She always said I was doing it wrong, and too much, that I was going to make him grow up _wrong_ if I hugged and kissed him as much as I did.

"So you stopped," Natasha sighed, she did that a lot in our sessions, "Okay, well I can tell you right now that you can hug him a whole lot more than that. Children need and deserve more affection than that."

"Danny, Harry and Dougie hug and kiss him throughout the day." it wasn't like Buzz wasn't given affection, he was, he was given affection from a lot of people. I just... I just didn't do it that much, because I did it wrong.

"Well that's good, but really Tom, you can give him more affection too. Hugs and kisses don't have to be done at certain times during the day, they can be freely given whenever you feel like it. To be honest, there isn't such a thing as 'too much' affection, especially for a baby like Buzz." Natasha told me.

"But my wife always said that I was going to make him grow up wrong if I gave him too much." She always said it, made sure I knew that too. I couldn't hug our son too much, I would make him too dependent on us, he'd never learn to stand up for himself or how to be strong.

"She wasn't right there Tom, not giving him affection can be just as damaging, if not more so. Giving affection to your child helps create a bond between you and your child, and helps them to feel safe in their surroundings, it is vital to show them affection, and not to confine it to just certain times of day." Natasha explained, that made sense, I guessed.

"But, I hug _too much_ usually, how much should I hug? How much is too much? I don't want to hug him too much." I really didn't, I didn't want to make Buzz dependant on me by hugging him too much. I needed to hug him just the right amount, and I didn't know how much that was. Everybody else seemed to know but I didn't.

"Well that's a really tough question, it usually depends on the person. Some people cuddle their children all the time, giving kisses every time they see their children, or whenever their child does something good. It comes out a lot in play time a lot, for example tickles turning into hugs, or vice versa, or kisses are given whenever the child leans against the parent, generally when they're learning to stand, things like that." Natasha explained, but I didn't play with Buzz. I didn't know how.

"But I don't... I don't play." I had to watch over him, not actually play with him.

"I know, and we're going to get to that later," Natasha thought for a minute, "Do you remember what it was like, before your wife told began telling you that you were raising Buzz in a way she didn't approve of?"

"Not, not really." She had started telling me straight away that I was doing wrong. She got rid of the problem before it could grow, every time. She didn't let me continue being bad when she could help it, she was vigilant like that.

"Damn, well do you remember the instinct you had then, the feelings that made you want to show your son affection during the day and during play time?" Natasha asked. I remembered it clearly, I still felt it now. Instinct told me to hold my son, to kiss him, tickle him, _play_ with him. But I'd pushed it away for years, had forced myself to stop it, because it wasn't right.

"Alright, that's good. I want you to _act_ on those instincts. When you feel the urge to give Buzz a cuddle, then do it. When you want to kiss him, then kiss him. Anything like that, I want you to act on it, as much as you can." Natasha wanted me to do _what?_

"But that will screw Buzz up!" I didn't want to argue, she was the expert, but wouldn't that screw Buzz up?

"We shall work on that later. But right now, what is most important is building the bond between you and Buzz, you are his main carer now, having that bond is _vital._ Giving him reassurance, and making sure he knows that you love him, is incredibly important. We can worry about what's too much later, right now, just try your best to act on your instincts. It will feel weird at first, but it will get easier over time." Natasha promised, with a kind smile.

"Are you sure?" I asked, it just, it didn't feel right, deep inside.

"Yes, I'm definitely sure. Just try your best, alright? You'll feel odd, and like you're doing it wrong, but please, just try. It will get easier, and do the both of you the world of good."


	40. Chapter 40

38 Harry's POV

Tom came home just as we were making lunch, as we did every week. it was one of the only things we could think to do, so Tom had some sort of rest after his therapy session. It was admittedly pathetic, but it was the only thing we could think of to help him out. And didn't it count as doing something to take the pressure off him, while not making him feel useless? We had the excuse of him being out, so it wasn't like we were taking over.

"Hey Tom, how was today?" we never said therapy, none of us liked the word, or the implications of it.

"It was, we worked on some things, like we were supposed to." Tom answered, same as he did every week. He never went into specifics, or said anything about what went on during his sessions. He just said that they were doing the things he and Natasha were supposed to be doing, like we'd think he was doing anything else.

"Good to hear, fancy a sandwich?" I handed him a plate, not allowing him to say no.

"Buzz's is on his high chair." Danny nodded his head at the island, where the chair was placed.

"Thanks." Tom flashed a smile, making sure to sort out Buzz first, before sorting himself out. He did that too, always making sure that Buzz was sorted out first.

But then something slightly odd happened. Instead of just helping Buzz feed himself, then cleaning the kid up, Tom reached out and... did he just stroke Buzz's cheek? Did he really just run a finger affectionately over the chubby baby cheek, and not be cleaning him up? He was touching his son affectionately, for no other purpose other than to show affection?

That was... different. I hadn't seen Tom do something like that in _months,_ not since... God not since before his wife left. And even then it had been sparingly. This was new, and while it had been incredibly hesitantly done, it was still done. That was one hell of an improvement.

And it continued like that all week in fact. At random intervals throughout the day, Tom started showing affection towards Buzz. Be that with a kiss, a hug, or a stroke of the baby's cheek. At one point, he even gave Buzz a _tickle,_ which was something I had not expected to see. I hadn't expected it at all, not now, possibly not for months. But here he was, actually doing something other than bare basic, robotic, parenting.

"Do you think that was what this week's therapy was about?" Danny asked, after Tom had taken Buzz to bed. On the baby monitor, we could see him reading to his son, one arm resting protectively around the child.

"Must have been, otherwise he wouldn't have done it." I was sure of that, Tom didn't do _anything_ that wasn't part of his ingrained routine without encouragement, and even then it took time to get him to do it. He only seemed to be really paying attention to Natasha, and that was probably because she was the expert in the situation, so he took her word as gospel.

"It's good though... right?" Dougie asked, leaning over my shoulder to watch the little family together.

"Of course it is, he's interacting, and getting closer, that can't be a bad thing." I couldn't see how it could be a bad thing, Tom was starting to interact more with his son. It was desperately needed, for both father and son. There had been a clear distance between the two for so long, both clearly needed this time together.

And, it had to be building Tom's confidence, right? It had to be building his confidence in showing who he was, and showing his feelings, instead of bottling everything up and hiding behind a mask. This all had to be an exercise in showing affection, and not being afraid of engaging with another person. How could that be a bad thing? It had to be a _good_ thing. A very, very good thing indeed.

"Think this is the start of him getting better?" Danny looked over my other shoulder.

"Possibly, but think of what Natasha said, it's not going to be instant, and this is just the beginning. He's probably going to start getting a bit...wobbly now, less certain. So we probably need to start keeping a closer eye on him, just in case." I didn't want to have to constantly keep watch, keep on thinking that Tom was ready to fall to pieces at any second, that any week now, he was going to come home very shaken from the realisation that he was abused for years. but it was coming, I could feel it, and this was just the start of that realisation.


	41. Chapter 41

39 Dougie's POV

Buzz was incredibly happy because of Tom's new-found affection, and very clearly cheered up because of it. He seemed to smile and laugh more, and to me, seemed like he slept for longer, he wasn't up at all hours of the night. Sure, he still woke up, but that was because he was teething, but on the whole, it seemed like he slept more, which gave Tom more sleep in turn, which seemed to put him in a good mood too.

Tom was still hesitant, and was obviously thinking his actions through before he made any, but he was more relaxed the rest of the time. I may have been imagining it, probably was, but it looked like everyone was relaxing, and that was a good thing, a very, very good thing.

The next week, things seemed to move forward again too. During play time with Buzz, Tom started to _join in._ Not by much, and incredibly hesitantly, but he stopped sitting and watching. He started handing Buzz his toys, and tickling him more often, one day, he even sat and watched Peppa Pig too, instead of going off to do something else. It was great to see, amazing in fact, I couldn't believe I was actually seeing it. Tom had spent _so much_ time not interacting that much with Buzz, just doing the basics of parenting and leaving us to do all the fun bits, it was amazing to see him finally allowing himself to reach out.

Though, Tom was conflicted over it. I could see how hesitant he was every time, how he was second guessing what he was doing, asking himself if it was the right thing. It was almost like he was pained to do it, that he was scared that we were going to shout at him and kick him away from his son. We wouldn't do that to him, but he thought we would, after his wife had done the same thing. I hated that woman with a passion for what she had done. No man should have to doubt whether or not he could hug his son, or whether he could simply _play_ with them.

The whole house felt happier, now that Tom was getting better, and starting to get back to himself. There was a long way to go, but he was getting there, and even though it was taking a long time, it was still a good step. Better than wallowing like we were before.

"Buzz looks happier." I commented, sliding to sit on the sofa next to Tom, who had gone back to watching Danny and Harry playing with Buzz. Currently the toddler was playing with his toy hoover, and for some reason they were letting themselves be run over with it, with dramatic cries of 'pain' while they were at it.

"Yeah, yes, he is." Tom nodded, turning shy, fiddling with his fingers.

"Must be loving all the attention he's getting, it's like he's the centre of the universe." I wasn't going to say it was directly because of Tom's presence, didn't want to point it out too much and make it obvious, in case it put him off.

"He loves playing with the three of you." Tom answered, a flash of something... _wrong,_ on his face.

"He loves playing with you too." I told him, needing him to know that, he had to know that much, at least.

"And you." Tom insisted, "You're... you're really good with him." the 'better than me' wasn't said, but came through loud and clear.

"It's cause I'm a child at heart, and have never grown up." I nudged him with my elbow, "But in all seriousness, he loves you, it's making him really happy to hang out with you."

"I guess." Tom sighed, watching as Buzz's laugh rang out across the garden.

"Tom, seriously, he loves being with you. Now that you're hanging with him more, he's a lot happier. He missed you." I encouraged him, because I felt that some was needed. Tom needed to know the effect he was having on his son, how much better he was making him. he had to know how happy he made his son, and how much his son loved him.


	42. Chapter 42

40 Tom's POV

I could not believe a word Dougie said about Buzz loving being around me. He hadn't _missed_ me, or anything like that, I hadn't gone anywhere. All I had done was started to hug and kiss him more, and all children liked that type of thing. If Danny, Harry or Dougie had decided to do that instead of me, then it wouldn't have made a difference in the slightest. Buzz would have brightened up because of any of us, not because it was me. I was his dad, that was all, and no matter how many people tried to convince me, I wasn't going to fall for it.

"Why don't you think Buzz cares if you're around or not?" Natasha asked me in the next therapy session.

"Because he's happy whenever somebody shows him affection, and he's happier when he's playing with the boys." That I was certain of, he laughed and smiled more with them than he did with me, even when I joined in. He didn't care if I was there or not.

"How can you be sure?" Natasha pushed, giving me a very concerned look.

"He's laughing more when he's with the boys, than he is with me." generally he just gave me confused looks when I did something Natasha had told me to do.

"Right, have you thought that maybe he's confused because he isn't used to you playing with him?" Natasha asked... that could be true, I guessed. I mean, it wasn't like I had played with him for a while, had removed myself from it almost entirely if I'm honest. "Think about it Tom, it has been a while since you've done more than do the basics of looking after him, do you think he's maybe a bit confused as to the sudden change?"

"Should I stop?" I didn't want him to be confused, but at the same time, if I had to stop, I would. I just wanted to raise him right, that was all, and all these rules and methods were confusing. I didn't have a clue about what I was doing, I was following along with orders, but it just... it didn't feel _right._

There was this voice screaming in my head that I was doing it all wrong. Every awkward moment, every confused look, every single thing I did felt _wrong._ I was constantly waiting to be shouted at, to be told that I was an _idiot_ for whatever I had just done. One of these days, I was sure everyone was going to give up and take Buzz away, because I was not getting this right, even with clear instructions on what to do.

"No! God no, keep going, do not stop, whatever you do. Buzz just isn't used to how you're acting, he's grown up with you taking one step back from him, he'll get used to it soon." Natasha explained, "That being said though, he certainly seems to be more at ease these past few weeks."

"I guess." He had been quite chilled out recently, but really, was that to do with me? I didn't think so, not really. I had just hugged and kissed him more, and been a bit more involved in play time. It wasn't like I was suddenly back to how I was when he was a baby. I was still careful, still trying to avoid screwing him up, still thinking twice about _everything_ I did, that could have been relaxing to a baby.

"He really does like having you around Tom." Natasha smiled, reaching over to ruffle my son's hair, making him giggle.

"I'm just his dad though." I sighed, I wasn't anything special, I should have had that much of an effect on him.

"Exactly, you're his _dad._ That's a bond unlike any other, the two of you are supposed to be really close, to spend time together, all of that important stuff. And because of everything that's happened, you've not had a chance to properly _bond_ together, and now that you are, he is a little confused, but he's happy about it." Natasha explained, "He's supposed to draw comfort from your presence, and to love spending time with you, all children do with their parents."

"His mum was supposed to do that though." His mum was the one he should have been close to. He should have been comforted by _her_ presence, should have been playing with _her,_ all of those things were supposed to be about him and _her,_ because she knew was she was doing.

"No, it was supposed to be the _both_ of you, you _both_ should have been there. And it's not your fault that you didn't have that bonding moment, but you now have that chance to make up for lost time, so you have to take it Tom." Natasha told me, with utter seriousness, "You are _not_ useless at this, you are being a _great_ dad to Buzz, and we will continue to work together to make things better. But I mean it when I say that _you_ are better than you think you are, and Buzz loves you so much, so you need to be there for him."

"I don't know if I can." I didn't know if I could do this, I didn't know what I was doing in the slightest. I was stumbling about in the dark, unsure of _every_ single move I made.

"You can, and we're all going to help you Tom, every step of the way. You are not alone, and you never will be."


	43. Chapter 43

41 Danny's POV

I hated waited for Tom to come home from therapy, _despised_ it in fact. I wanted to be there for him, wanted to support him in any way I could, but he insisted on going by himself, with just Buzz in tow. He wouldn't let anybody else go with him, hell he wouldn't even let us _drive_ him there or back again! Damn it wanted to _be there_ for him, not to see here and wait!

"Danny, he'll be fine, like he is every week." Harry tried to stop me pacing.

"I know, I just... I want to _be there._ " I couldn't explain it, I knew I couldn't help him, but I wanted to be by his side. I wanted him to know that he wasn't alone in this, that we could help. I wanted to know what he was working on this week, so I knew what to do with him. I just wanted to know what was going on!

"We all do, but he wants to do it by himself, it's a fair thing to want." Harry sighed, a pained look in his eye. He'd looked the same when he used to wait for Dougie to come back from his therapy sessions, he'd been a ball of energy, couldn't sit still for a minute. I almost caught him once chewing on his nails, something Harry _never_ did.

"We have to let him be independent, to make choices for himself. He hasn't had that in a long time, I'm sure it's a part of recovery." Harry didn't look exactly convinced of that.

"But he's been _independent_ since we found out what happened! This isn't a recovery thing!" I was sure of it, I was absolutely _sure_ that this was still part of how Tom had been forced to behave.

"Maybe, maybe not, but we have to let him come to us. We can't force him to do things, even if it's things that either make us feel more useful, or like we're doing something to help him out. We have to let him ask for help, to gain some sort of confidence in asking for help." Harry explained, I knew that, I _did._ It still didn't feel right though, none of it felt right.

"He didn't ask us for help last time he was in therapy, or tell us what happened during sessions either." Dougie pointed out, "It's a really private thing, and a tough thing to go through. Sometimes you just want to hide it, pretend it isn't happening for the rest of the week."

"Apart from when you have something to work on." Harry continued.

"Apart from that, yeah. But the rest, it's sometimes better to not share with anyone but the therapist, until things are feeling less wonky." Dougie looked uncomfortable saying it, I didn't really blame him. He hadn't really ever felt comfortable talking about his own stint in the world of depression, he spoke about it when it was needed, and when he wanted us to know something, but mostly we pretended like it didn't happen... only we looked for signs for him slipping away from us again, just in case.

"Thing is though, did Tom not want to tell us anything the first time round because he didn't want to, or because his wife stopped him?" if his wife stopped him from going to therapy in the end, did she stop him from telling us anything further than the fact that he was in therapy?

"No idea, and maybe we'll never know. It's a different situation, a different thing being tackled, maybe he'll open up in his own time, when, as Dougie said, things are less wonky." Harry still didn't look like he believed what he was saying. None of us did.

For the millionth time, I cursed Tom's wife for doing this, for bullying him so much to turn him into who he was now. This wasn't _right._ He used to ask us for help whenever he needed it, he included us in what he was doing, hell he _talked_ to us. He wasn't even talking to us now, not unless it was necessary. We knew _nothing_ about what was going through his head, were having to guess at what his latest session was about, and had no idea on how to treat him. Some subjects seemed like a mine field, I was half scared to even talk about _Buzz,_ in case I said the wrong thing and set him back.

It was like when he was ill, before he got his bipolar diagnosis. When he was depressed, Tom shut himself away, pulled away from us so much it was impossible to go any further. He did everything by himself, refused to let anybody get close to him, even if it was to suggest something. But this time, this time he wasn't arguing, he wasn't _angry._ He was just... subservient. There was no fight in him, no nothing. I hated it, I wanted him to argue, to question things, to push back when he needed to. At least then we had something to work with!

"He came back to us when he was ill last time, he'll come back to us now. Just give him time Danny." Harry sighed, not giving me much confidence in him at all.


	44. Chapter 44

42 Harry's POV

Giving Tom time to decide that he could ask for help felt right, but at the same time so wrong. I wanted to step in, to control what was going on with him, push him in the right direction. But I couldn't, it wasn't allowed to start with, let alone anything else. Tom had to learn that it was okay to come to us again, that we were allowed to help him when he needed it. We had to let him learn by himself, let the therapy help him in ways we couldn't, it was just so _hard._

I had to remind myself that I'd had to do the same thing with Dougie in the past. I'd had to learn that I could not help him by myself, that the professionals could help him, all I could do was support. One of the hardest things I had ever done was let him go into rehab for a month, to fully accept that I could not help solve his problems by myself, like I had done in the past. It had taken me weeks to get used to it, and had left me second guessing so many things after he had gone into out-patient therapy.

But, at least Dougie had _spoken_ to me, had let me drive him to his therapist several times, had mentioned what was going on in passing, had cuddled up to me after a tough session. He didn't talk in detail about what happened inside, but he'd kept close, had _wanted_ me close. Tom on the other hand didn't seem to want any of that. He seemed determined to do it completely by himself. Understandable, with his behaviour as of late, but could it be partly his wife's fault, after she had pulled him away from us so much?

I didn't know anymore, and I resolved to talk to Tom at some point this week, see if I could get anything out of him, about _anything,_ at all.

The opportunity presented itself two days later, while Danny, Dougie and Buzz were playing some sort of hide and seek game around the front room. Tom was sitting in the extension with the door open, watching the scene unfold from afar. He may have been starting to join in with his son, but only when there were toys present, if it was a game like this one, he only watched.

"Hey, alright?" I slid to sit next to him, putting my feet up on another chair in an attempt to look casual.

"Yes... Are, are you?" Tom looked deeply concerned that he hadn't said the right thing.

"Can't complain, been a bit tired, but nothing serious." I shrugged, "Sounded like Buzz slept pretty well last night though." Always a good place to start a conversation. Wasn't directly about Tom, but gave me an opening to explore.

"He nearly did, he woke up once, because of his teeth, but he's getting better." Tom answered, eyes always on his son, who was laughing loudly as he ran around a chair.

"Yeah, I heard it gets better with time. They don't get used to it as such, but some teeth hurt less than others." I nodded along, like I knew anything about children and teething, further from what I'd heard from my sister when her kids were going through the same thing.

"He's nearly got all of them now." Tom commented, looking at him side on, I could see the dark bags under his eyes. I hadn't noticed them much before, probably thanks to his glasses, but he definitely had some very deep bags, like he hadn't been sleeping much at all.

"That's good, means you'll hopefully get some proper night's sleep again... how are you holding up by the way?" I held in a wince at the bluntness of the question.

"I'm... not bad, everything is still getting done, a-and I'm working hard, with Natasha. I, I'm getting better." Tom got cagey, stuttering over his words.

"Glad to hear it, but I meant in yourself. How are you feeling?" I reached out, placing a hopefully calming hand on his. It had worked with Dougie, he'd found touch grounding most of the time.

"Fine, just fine." Tom rushed to say, "I have to get lunch now." he rushed off, leaving me wondering why that had worried him so much.


	45. Chapter 45

43 Dougie's POV

Despite a lot of attempts, none of us could get a world out of Tom, nothing further than him saying that he was fine. Any question about how he was really doing was immediately answered with him running off, or changing the subject.

With other topics, it depended on what it was. If it was something like what we were eating for our next meal, then we got an answer, but offers to help him with something were turned down, questions about Buzz were answered wearily, and anything else we didn't get a chance to actually _talk_ about, because he wasn't in the room at the time.

It was like he was completely cutting himself off, trying to prove he could do everything by himself, without any interference. And everything else was because of what his wife had told him. I couldn't help but think of the things Tom had said before, about what his wife had said to him. She told him that wasn't good with talking to people, or being social in any way, maybe that was what was affecting him? Maybe he was scared to screw up again, and needed to be reassured that everything was fine?

"Could be the issue... we should phone Natasha, to tell her." Harry got out his phone, immediately phoning the therapist. We had started to do that a lot, phoning her to tell her everything that was happening, asking her questions as much as we could. She couldn't tell us much, as she was bound by patient/therapist privilege, but she could give us vague ideas.

"I know of Tom's issues with talking about how he's feeling, it's unfortunately something he's been doing for years." Natasha sighed, that was true, Tom did clam up a lot when he was stressed. He preferred to do things by himself, and shut everyone out.

"Trust me when we say, we know." Harry sighed too, rubbing the back of his neck, "Can we help in any way?"

"You're doing pretty well already, by talking to him and encouraging him to have conversation, you're showing that it's okay to talk, to express emotion and thoughts with others. I know it doesn't seem very effective right now, thanks to his continued escapes, but you're still giving him the option. And hopefully, when I start to work on this, he'll have the framework to know that you're all available to talk." We were more than available to talk, we wanted to talk to him constantly. We wanted him to interact, and be _himself._

"When will you be starting that?" Danny asked, it was hitting him hard, seeing all of this. He was so close and connected to Tom usually, that to have him so closed off must have been difficult.

"Soon, I want to talk to him more about what his wife has done to him over the years first, to establish more of a baseline to his level of abuse. And possibly bring him round to the idea that this was not right in the slightest, before I got into getting him to open up to others. I'm not sure yet, I'm currently just trying to get him to be more involved with Buzz, so the two can bond properly." Natasha explained, "It's a tough balance, I want to get into the real problems, but I don't want him to lose precious time with his son. I'll do my best, and work on a better timeline soon. All I can suggest now, is to try and continue on like you have been, talking to him, getting him involved in whatever you can, and generally making sure that he isn't shutting himself out too much."

The phone call ended, leaving us all still a bit stumped. I think all of us were desperate for Tom to start his therapy about what happened to him, but at the same time, knew he needed to be more involved with Buzz first. He couldn't lose this time with his son, or risk not having a proper bond with the child. Buzz needed his dad, needed to know that there was a person out there who would be there to look after him. It was all well and good that we were there to play with him, but he needed stability, someone who was _always_ there, and always be there.

Only after that, could Natasha move onto actually helping Tom with his problems. It seemed like a good plan, starting on working on problems with a clear head. Or at least, a clearer head, that wasn't worrying about his son being taken from him, or anything like that. He needed to feel safer in his situation, before he could start talking about the _abuse_ his wife had taken out on him, without him even realising it.

Still though, we were desperate to get Tom back. This wasn't Tom, this was a shadow of who he was. He needed to be restored to who he was, so he could stop being miserable.


	46. Chapter 46

44 Danny's POV

I didn't feel right, letting Tom hide himself away during the evenings, it felt like he was shutting us all out, hiding away for some reason. In fact, I didn't just feel 'not right' about letting Tom hide away, it felt down right _mean_ to let him do it. He was so alone during the day, despite our tries to get him to talk and join in, I couldn't let him continue into the night too, could I?

It felt wrong, he was alone, upstairs, hiding from everyone. He shouldn't have been doing that, he needed more socialisation, he had been alone for so long. He needed love, and acceptance, and to feel _included._ Not just including Buzz in things, not just letting us join in with his son, but he needed to be included in parts of adult life too. He needed to relax, to let his hair down and do something for _himself_ for once. Everything Tom did, was for Buzz, or for all of us, he needed to do something for him. Something that wasn't hiding from everyone, at least.

"Maybe we should invite him to watch a film." I suggested, looking up at the ceiling, like it was magically bring Tom down to us.

"Could do, think he'd go for it though?" Harry asked, "It doesn't involve talking much, but it's still kinda social."

"No idea, possibly worth a try though... What is he doing up there, anyway?" did any of us even know that much? He'd come up with a lot of excuses, but how could we know if any were true? What if he was just watching over Buzz all night, in case we stole him away, or out of over-protectiveness?

"He's writing songs, isn't he?" Dougie glanced up too. I had a vague feeling that that was what he was doing, but was he _really_ writing songs? I had a feeling he wasn't. I don't know why, but I just had this feeling that he was just _hiding._ Maybe so he didn't have to talk to others, maybe to avoid questions. Who knew anymore with Tom?

"That could be a way in actually, do either of you two have any songs you haven't finished, or need help with, or opinions?" Harry turned to Dougie and I, looking at us like we were the only hope here. Harry didn't really come up with songs himself, he came up with drum beats afterwards, and helped us with lyrics on occasion. So Dougie and I were the only ones who were really could help in this.

"Not really no, I only have vague ideas floating around." Dougie shrugged, he did like to work in vague ideas, instead of physical words, until we officially started writing songs again.

"Not much here either. Nothing I could really show Tom." I shrugged too, I basically only had a few voice recordings that I needed to develop into actual guitar sounds. I never showed any voice recordings to anybody, always waited until I had translated it into guitar or piano.

"Shit. Alright, how about if you go up, try and get him to come down to see a film, if not, then maybe see if he wants to collaborate on some writing." Harry suggested, I nodded, heading up the stairs, taking several calming breaths as I did so.

After quickly checking on Buzz, making sure he was asleep, I found Tom in his music room, as I thought I would. He was sat with his acoustic guitar, idly plucking the strings.

"Hey mate, we were thinking of putting on a film, wanna come join?" I leant against the door frame, trying to look casual.

"Huh?" Tom looked up, "Oh, erm... No thank you, I'm, I'm on a bit of a role at the moment."

"Oh, anything we can hear?" I tried to look as open and inviting as possible.

"Er, not at the moment, it's not ready yet." Tom shook his head, looking away, down at his guitar.

"Ah, maybe I could help then? It's been a while since we worked together on a song." I sat down on the floor next to him, just like always. And it had been _so long_ since we had worked together, at least a year. God, had it been that long? I hadn't noticed time passing like that, damn that wife of his. Again. For the thousandth time.

"I, erm..." Tom hesitated.

"Oh come on, it's been _ages,_ let's have a night of song writing, just like when we were younger." I encouraged him, rubbing my hands together.

"O-Okay." Tom smiled hesitantly.

"Great, where do you want to start?" mission, accomplished!


	47. Chapter 47

45 Tom's POV

Crap, crap, crap, _crap!_ I didn't have a song, or any ideas, or anything we could work on together! I had _nothing!_ Literally nothing! Not one single idea in my head! I was only up here to make it look like I was doing something productive, so I didn't look lazy, I didn't expect anybody to come and _check up on me!_ What did I do?!

"So, wanna play me what you've got?" Danny asked, still giving me this eager look. Did he know that I had nothing? Was he waiting to catch me out? He was trying to catch me out, wasn't he? Damn it I was trying! I was trying _so hard_ to do something right around here, I didn't want to be caught out for that too, like I was for everything else!

I knew they all thought that I was useless, that I was doing everything wrong. I was so lucky nobody had actually said anything, and instead had been incredibly encouraging, but still, I didn't like to be checked on like this! It made me feel even worse than usual, like I wasn't even to be trusted with doing something _creative._ Even if I wasn't doing anything, and was pretending, didn't mean that I needed to be checked up on!

"Erm, there isn't... it's just a few chords." I was desperately clambering for something, _anything._ A few chords that sounded good together, a few piano notes, _anything at all_ would have done! But there was nothing, my brain was blank! It had been blank for months! I couldn't even remember the last time I had actually written a song was!

"That's alright, maybe it can spark an idea off in my head, and we can work on it together." Danny encouraged again, like it was completely fine that I had no ideas anymore. Like our livelihoods didn't depend on me writing _something_ from time to time! Sure, Danny and Dougie improved it and made it sound good, but usually I had the initial idea, and I had _nothing!_

Somehow, I managed to blag a few chords, ones that sounded vaguely like ten seconds of a song. But it was rough, so very, very rough and very clearly off the top of my head. I cringed, waiting for Danny to call me out on it, to laugh at me for being so stupid, or for him to start screaming at me for being so useless, but he never did. He seemed to think for a minute, playing through what he'd heard in his head again, before standing up and sitting himself at the piano.

"It's good, but I think it may sound better on the piano, what were those chords again?" Danny asked... he what?

I rattled off the chords I'd played, watching him then play them out on the piano, luckily it was turned down quite far, so it wouldn't affect Buzz, who was asleep downstairs. Danny played through the chords a few times, getting used to playing them out, musing it over, before adding a few more of his own, building it up and up.

"I have an idea, come here a sec." He called me over, running through his thoughts, explaining his idea. We swapped places, him on guitar, me on piano, working out tunes and complementary chords, adding more notes in, eventually coming up with a workable tune that lasted three minutes and fourteen seconds.

"Yes! This is brilliant, I knew we'd work something out!" Danny grinned, clapping me on the shoulder.

"We did." I agreed, unsure of what to say to that. Danny had done most of the work, but he was acting like we had done it together the whole way through. And his was still touching my shoulder, his large hand resting there casually, like it was supposed to be there.

"I missed this recently, you know, just the two of us working together, creating music, just like we used to." The hand squeezed my shoulder. I wasn't... I wasn't used to that kind of thing. Nobody really... Buzz was the only person who touched me, and that was usually because I held him first, as per Natasha's instructions.

"I, I did too." was it okay to say that? Was I supposed to say something like that? I wasn't... I didn't _know_ what was right and wrong anymore. She'd said that I was awful with social interaction, that it was a wonder that I had managed to find friends in the first place. Was I saying the wrong thing?

"We should do it again sometime, maybe come up with some lyrics for this song, or start another one together." Danny looked so hopeful... maybe I was doing this right.

"When, whenever you want." I shouldn't be dictating when he did things, it was up to him when he wanted us to work together again.

"How about tomorrow night?" Danny suggested, he was so close to me, _so close,_ when was the last time someone had wanted to sit this close to me? When was the last time someone had wanted to _spend time_ with me, full stop?

"Er, sure, yeah... sounds good." I could do tomorrow night, was more than happy to have another evening of writing together. It was productive, it was good, something I _should_ have been doing. And the company wasn't bad either, as long as we weren't talking about how I was or anything like that, I was more than happy to have someone around.

"Great, I'll look forward to it." Danny squeezed my shoulder again.

"I, I will too." I would, I really, really would. I was so alone right now, felt so damn isolated. The few hours of company, and feeling useful for once, were a God send.

"Alright, well I'm going to bed then, so I'm ready to work again. Are you coming?" Danny asked, gesturing towards the door.

"Er," I was reluctant to let him go, to sever this connection. I hadn't had a proper adult conversation about anything other than Buzz and my feelings in so long, and hadn't been treated like I was competent in even longer. I didn't want to lose it now.

"Yeah, I'm coming down now." maybe if I just followed him downstairs, the connection could last a few more minutes. Just a few more, before the bubble burst.

Getting up, I grabbed the baby monitor, showing a still peacefully sleeping Buzz in his cot, and followed Danny downstairs, the both of us coming to a stop outside his room.

"Goodnight Tom." Danny leant in, wrapping his arms around me in a hug. I froze for a second, unsure on how to react. When was the last time I had been _hugged?_ Why was I being hugged in the first place? What had warranted a hug?

"G-Goodnight Danny." Was the only thing I thought to say, and then the hug was over, and Danny went into his room, leaving me standing on the landing, confused as to what just happened.


	48. Chapter 48

46 Harry's POV

"You got a _hug?!"_ Dougie nearly shouted the next morning, during a debrief before breakfast. We hadn't had a _clue_ about what had happened last night. Danny had just disappeared upstairs and we hadn't heard from him or Tom for the rest of the night. Of course, things had to have gone well, but we wanted to know _everything._ Did they talk about emotions? About therapy? About _anything_ that was going on? Did they talk at all? Or did they just write?

"Well, I hugged him, he didn't hug back all that much. I think he was a bit shocked, you know? He was shocked when I touched his shoulder too." Danny explained, fiddling with his sleeves.

"It's still something! And better than nothing!" I was sure of it, it was _so_ much better than nothing, and the start of something _good,_ I was sure of it! Hugs were good, hugs were a sign of trust and love. Tom needed trust and love, more than anything else.

"It was, but what was better, was that he agreed to let me help him again tonight." Danny _grinned,_ looked so pleased with himself, he couldn't have looked prouder if he tried.

"Really?" I couldn't believe Danny's luck, how the hell had he managed that?! I couldn't even get Tom to have a proper conversation with me, and Dougie couldn't either. And then Danny had gotten a _hug,_ and managed to spend several hours with him, just the two of them, without Tom running.

"Yep, after Buzz going to bed, we're going to add some lyrics to the song we wrote last night." Danny nodded, he was practically bouncing with glee where he stood.

"Congrats Danny." I praised him, "The company is going to do him a world of good." I didn't mention it would probably do them both some good. Danny was always so close to Tom, and not being able to talk to him like normal, it really hurt his feelings. Surely it hurt Tom's feelings too, but who knew what was going through Tom's head. He looked longingly when Buzz was playing, but God knew if he longed to be with us or not.

"It will, I can't wait." Danny gave a little bounce. It was kinda cute, if I was honest.

He was so excited for the entire day, barely able to hold it in. Tom looked rather happy too, at least calmer than usual, and kept on glancing at Danny. From the looks of it, he was anticipating their writing session. Though he did look nervous, but that was rather normal for him. Maybe he was getting worried about what was going to happen tonight, though I didn't see why he should be. They were going to be writing lyrics to a song, it wasn't going to be too bad. It wasn't like they were going to be talking about _feelings._

But, at least he was starting to look like he was excited for something, which was better than absolute terror, or worry. Anticipation and excited were good things, very good things, especially after so long. And if he was writing songs, he was expressing himself, even if it wasn't about what was going on, it still counted, didn't it? I mean, he was learning to express his feelings and his thoughts. That could prove useful later on, or at least in his therapy sessions.

Eventually, In The Night Garden finished, meaning it was time for Buzz to go to bed. So Tom stood up, picking up his son and started heading towards the stairs.

"I'll be up at half eight, that alright?" Danny asked, hugging a knee to his chest.

"Erm, yes, yes that will be fine." Tom nodded, readjusting Buzz in his arms as the baby yawned, leaning his little head on his father's shoulder.

"Great, see you then." Danny smiled again, a slightly calmer one though, probably so he didn't scare Tom off that much.

Tom flashed a smile, then went upstairs, leaving Danny to fidget until he had the excuse to run upstairs.

"Good luck." I jokingly called.

"Not going to need it." Danny laughed, skipping steps in his haste to join Tom.


	49. Chapter 49

47 Dougie's POV

By the end of the night, there was a fully fledged song written. Complete with lyrics and everything. And Danny was practically _glowing_ with happiness. Even Tom seemed to have an extra spring in his step, whether it was from completing a song for the first time in ages, or from the company, I didn't know. But he was certainly in a better mood. It wasn't totally obvious, but underneath it all, it was there, I could tell.

He was still tense, and wasn't that talkative, and didn't join in with us that much, but there was a certain level of... I guess you could call it satisfaction. Like he knew he'd done a good job at something. It had been a very long while since he'd felt like he done anything well, despite our encouragements, so it must have felt incredible to have that back again.

"So I take it that things went well last night then?" Harry slid to sit next to Danny at the table, while Tom was safely off putting Buzz down for a nap. We weren't in any trouble of him overhearing, I had the baby monitor down here, so I could shut us up the minute Tom was nearing us again.

"It went _really_ well. We got loads done, finished up all the lyrics, worked out a few other things that needed doing, it was great." Danny nodded, still grinning.

"I'm glad." Harry smiled too, squeezing our friends arm.

"Did he sing?" I asked as it occurred to me. If Tom thought he was useless at everything, did his wife destroy his confidence in his voice too? I couldn't remember him ever being shy about it before we knew what was going on behind closed doors, but maybe I hadn't been looking at things from the right angle at the time. I could have easily missed it, just like we missed everything else.

"Er, yeah, he was fine with that. Bit hesitant to wake Buzz up, but was fine after I reminded him that he hadn't woken up at the sound of a piano. He sang away just fine." Danny shrugged, "Why'd you ask?"

"Because, I was just thinking of all the other horrible things his wife had told him. Maybe she'd attacked him for his voice too, for whatever reason." I explained, I didn't know if it sounded stupid now or not. I mean, Tom had always been _fine_ with singing, he'd never had a problem with it, even when he was in his darkest depression days. But I just didn't know how far his wife had gone with him and his supposed failures. I wanted to make sure that he wasn't harbouring something else inside that head of his.

"Ah, fair enough. No, that wasn't an issue at all with him. He's fine singing, and playing for that matter, if a little hesitant to show his ideas. But once we got going, he got into it quite well. We sort of fell back into our old routines again, it was almost like nothing had changed." Danny smiled distantly, like he was remembering those old times, thinking back to when things had been easy. There was no hesitancy, no stress, no need for perfection. Just Tom, happy, laughing, being himself, like he should have been.

"Well that's a good sign, at least something hasn't been ruined." Harry sighed with a bit of relief. At least that was something, at least Tom's musicality hadn't been taken from him like everything else had. Tom and music was _everything,_ he embodied music and creativity, his entire world revolved around it. He used to sing everywhere, write constantly, there was always a new idea out of him, be it songs, books, musicals, all of it. Tom _was_ creativity, and he _was_ music, to have that taken from him would have just been too cruel for words.

"Yeah... Did you get another hug?" it had been bugging me, had Danny managed another hug? Or had he gotten another form of affection out of Tom? Please tell me he had, Tom _needed_ it, more than anything. Danny did too, but Tom especially needed that affection. All he had was hugs from Buzz, it wasn't enough, that could _never_ be enough.

"Er, no, not last night. Tom got a bit angsty when I got too near him, so I didn't force it. But we had fun, and he smiled, which is the main thing." Danny looked disappointed in that. But hey, he'd still managed to spend time with Tom, and gotten more out of him than anybody else had. And he'd gotten him to _laugh,_ surely that was a good thing?


	50. Chapter 50

48 Tom's POV

"How did working with Danny this week make you feel?" Natasha asked at our next session, after I had given her a quick rundown on the week.

"Erm, it was... it was good, I guess. We, we worked well together, and we got a song written." I explained, fiddling with my sleeves. I wasn't sure what else to say really, it was... I had enjoyed myself, and felt like I had done something right for the first time in I don't know how long, but it was... I don't know. I just couldn't really pin down what I was feeling right now.

"That's good news, when was the last time you wrote a song?" she continued, I shrugged, "Come on, surely you know when the last time you wrote a song is? Or at least can give me a rough estimate."

"I... I don't... it's been a while." I was ashamed of it, my job was to write songs, I was supposed to be writing all the time, and I didn't. I couldn't come up with anything on my own, I was blank.

"Why do you think that is?" Natasha pressed on.

"Maybe, maybe because of Buzz... Not in a bad way, obviously, I love him and love taking care of him, I mean... it's just... I look after him so much, I don't really have time to think of songs and lyrics." I tried to explain, God that sounded bad, that sounded _terrible,_ I couldn't believe... that wasn't what I wanted to say!

"I understand, when did you start feeling like this?" Natasha didn't seem to think anything bad about what I'd said, but what if she did? What if Danny, Harry and Dougie did, and they tried to take Buzz away, so I could work more on songs? Would they do that? My wife, she... she implied it several times.

"I don't... I don't really know." I didn't, it had been so long, I couldn't really pick out a time when I hadn't felt like this, not really.

"Okay, well was it before Buzz was born?" Natasha asked, she was asking so softly, like it whatever I said would be okay.

"Erm, I don't... I remember trying to write him a song, before he was born. We were, we were going to make a 'Bump To Buzz' type video, showing how the bump grew. I was supposed to write a song for it, but I couldn't get the words out. They got... the melody didn't _fit,_ and the words got stuck and _nothing came out._ " I'd been so upset, I had really wanted to give my child something, to do something special for him. And I hadn't been able to do it, no matter how hard I tried.

"How did your wife take that?" Natasha seemed hesitant to ask, I didn't blame her, she was probably expecting me to say that I got punished for it horrendously.

"She was, she was incredibly disappointed. She shouted, a lot." It was the first time she told me she didn't think I was cut out to be a father, that she doubted that I loved our child, "There, there was no violence though. She didn't hit me, or anything like that. It was just shouting, that's all." Natasha had to know that, that my wife was good to me, she didn't hurt me once. She could have, and should have as well, but she didn't. All she had ever done was shout when I did something wrong.

"What kinds of things did she shout Tom?" Natasha asked, still so softly.

"I, I don't want to talk about it." I really didn't want to admit to it, even though Natasha knew. It was embarrassing, having to admit that you were screwing up as a parent before your child was even born. What kind of professional songwriter can't even write a song for their child?

"Tom please, tell me what she said. I promise it won't leave this room, and won't sway my decision in letting you keep Buzz." She gestured to my son, who was so innocently playing with some wooden building blocks on the floor.

"She erm, she told me." I leant down, covering Buzz's ears, I didn't want him to hear this, "It was the first time she told me she doubted I loved our child, and doubted I'd be a good father. She was ashamed of me... I do love him though, with everything I have. And I know I'm not _good_ at being a parent, but I'm trying, I swear I'm _trying so hard_ to get this right. I'm doing everything you say, following it to the letter." I was trying so hard, really I was. I wanted to get this right, I wanted to say that I was getting better at this, that I had proof that my wife was wrong about me and fatherhood. I just... there wasn't anything right now.

"After that, how often did she tell you those things?" Natasha asked as I uncovered Buzz's ears, catching his confused expression.

"Daily. Just about every time I did something wrong." After it started, she wouldn't stop, she made sure I knew exactly what she thought of my parenting skills. And she certainly made it clear on the day she left too.


	51. Chapter 51

49 Danny's POV

Tom turned down all future opportunities to write together again, he insisted that he didn't have any ideas he needed help with right now, and no amount of convincing from me would change his mind. In the end, he started getting downright fearful if I brought it up, fidgeting and escaping the second he could, so I gave up. There was no point in pushing Tom, all it did was freak him out. And anyway, he may have actually been on a roll himself. Who knew? He may actually tell us after he was finished... psh, who was I kidding? Of course he wouldn't.

With a sigh, I left him to go upstairs with Buzz for the evening, knowing I wouldn't be seeing him for the rest of the day, just like every other evening. Every instinct told me to run upstairs with him, to help him whatever he was writing, to spend time with him, to make sure he knew that he was _loved,_ and that he wasn't so alone. Tom was so alone, and he'd been a lot happier the days after our writing sessions, he needed more of that, he needed more of that happiness.

But if he wanted alone time, I had to respect that. So, I settled back against the sofa, trying to lose myself in whatever was on the TV. Something about space, a weak attempt to get Tom to come back down after Buzz went to bed. An attempt which failed, like 90% of our attempts. We had tried so much, Star Wars, Back To The Future, space TV, everything we could think of, and nothing got him to come back down. As soon as it hit Buzz's bed time, he was upstairs like a shot, baby in tow, with no chance of him coming back down again.

"Hey, we tried, and you got somewhere last week. He now knows that you want to work with him, and that you're his friend, he'll come back to you when he's ready." Harry reassured me, rubbing my shoulder.

"Doesn't stop it hurting when he rejects me now." I sounded like a miserable teenager, I knew that, but I just... I _missed_ Tom, I wanted him back. It was difficult to have those two nights of perfection, getting a _hug,_ and a _conversation_ from him, then to go back to him hiding in himself again. It was like he wanted to stay away, that he didn't trust himself with us.

"He'll come back." Dougie repeated his husband, "He's come back before, and I mean... if him and me can come back from what we were going through, he'll come back from this too, he's stronger than he looks."

That was where Dougie was right, Tom was definitely stronger than he looked. It was just, he looked so _fragile_ right now. So thin, so pale, so sleep deprived, and just so damn _tiny._ Like if someone touched him too roughly he'd shatter. I constantly had to remind myself that he wouldn't shatter, that he was still human, and able to hold himself together, even if it was just barely.

"I know, I do. I just..." I wanted to bring him back out of himself right now. I wanted him safe. I wanted... I just wanted him safe. And happy. And to be himself again.

"We understand, we feel it too. But he's getting there. Did you notice how he was interacting more with Buzz this week? He's holding onto him more, and spending more time with him?" Harry smiled, that was also true. Tom had been spending more time with his son, giving him more kisses and cuddles. Though it had all still been hesitant, and like he still wasn't sure of his actions. But he was still _doing_ it, like he should have been, which was something.

"I did." And it was good, he was getting better with Buzz, evolving into the dad he always should have been. I just wished Natasha would hurry up and give him back all of his personality. All of it. The high-pitched laughter, the brilliant creativity, the weird quirks, the nerdy clothes, all of it. Not just this watered-down version, not the bare-basics. Him. All of him.


	52. Chapter 52

50 Dougie's POV

The usual night time routine started at the exact same time it usually did, with Tom immediately taking Buzz upstairs for his nightly bath as soon as In The Night Garden had finished, leaving all of us sitting downstairs, unsure on what to do now. Harry put on one of David Attenborough's documentaries for me, but it wasn't holding my attention like it usually would. I don't know, I just... didn't feel like watching it, or doing anything that wasn't about helping Tom. Half way through the show, I gave up, getting up and going to the kitchen for a snack. It wasn't exactly better than watching the show, but it was something to do at the least.

In the kitchen, I could hear something. A small murmuring, barely able to be heard, and it sounded like Tom. Looking around, I found the spare baby monitor, the one that Tom didn't carry around with him once Buzz was in bed. On the screen, Tom was sitting on the floor of Buzz's room, his son on his lap, reading him a story. He was gently whispering it to his sleepy child, arm wrapped around the baby protectively, looking every bit like the perfect father.

"Hey guys, look at this." I brought it into the front room, showing Danny and Harry my discovery.

"He's... it's the most fatherly I've seen him." Danny was watching intently, hand reaching out to hold the monitor.

It was true, thinking about it, Tom hadn't looked this fatherly in a long time, possibly ever. Not that he wasn't affectionate, but it always looked hesitant. This though, this was unashamed closeness, with no sign of being tense, or like he wasn't sure of what he was doing. He looked determined, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Or at least, was confident that he was doing the right thing. Or maybe, that he was certain that he wanted to do this with Buzz right now.

"Maybe he's used to this bit." I was pretty sure Tom had been doing this for a while, maybe he was used to this bit of Buzz's routine. Judging by the way the boy was relaxed against him, and how he was holding onto Tom, he was certainly used to it.

"He does read Buzz a story every night." he'd mentioned it before, and we'd all heard it too, when we walked past Buzz's room at night. He must have been used to this bit, felt confident in what he was doing at this part of parenting.

We watched as Tom finished the book, taking a second to pausing and cuddle Buzz closer, wrapping both of his arms around his son, kissing his forehead. The baby was nearly asleep, eyes drooping and hands slacking in this hold on Tom's shirt.

Then he stood, taking Buzz to his cot, placing him in it and tucking him in. But then he didn't leave, he sat next to the cot, sticking his fingers through the bars and reaching out to hold onto his son's hand. He didn't say a thing, he just... watched his son fall asleep, and then continued to watch him sleep, not taking his eyes away from him for a very long time.

"What's he doing?" Danny asked, looking confused as he watched the monitor.

"Watching his son sleep? Has he done that before?" I didn't think he had, in fact I was sure of it. I didn't know why, but I had this feeling that Tom hadn't done this before, he'd gone once Buzz had fallen asleep. He did when the baby was napping during the day after all.

"I don't think he has." Harry answered, none of us knowing what to make of this. What could we make of this? Was it a good thing? Was it a bad thing? Was it just a _thing?_ I didn't understand, none of Tom's behaviour made sense. He didn't seem to want to spent more time with Buzz during the day, and didn't make any efforts to, but now he was doing this? It wasn't... I didn't get what he was doing.

Tom didn't move for so long, long enough for me to think he'd fallen asleep against the cot. Eventually though, he got up, slowly taking his fingers away, instead leaning over the cot and kissing his sons head.

"I love you, so much. A-And, I'm going to do better, for you." He whispered, before turning to leave, hesitating at the door, turning back for one last look at the baby before leaving.

What the hell was that?!


	53. Chapter 53

51 Harry's POV

Tom's behaviour didn't make a single bit of sense. At least, not to us it didn't. He didn't usually spend that much time with Buzz, not during the night anyway. He wasn't... he didn't do affection right now, he did, well... routine, by the looks of it. So, this was odd.

But, I decided to take it as a good sign. A sign that he was getting more confident in his affections with his son, that he was starting to feel confident enough to spend 'unnecessary' time with him, time he could he spent being productive instead. Maybe he was just trying out this uncharted territory while we weren't around, to avoid potential judgement, getting himself used to it before he revealed anything else to us. Maybe, hopefully. God I hoped so.

The next day, Danny and Dougie were still confused, even when I explained my reasoning to them. They tried to agree, but were scared of what the real reason was. I didn't want them to think too much on that, but there wasn't really anything I could do to stop them from it really. They were scared, understandably, and maybe they were right to be worried. Worry was acceptable in situations like this, though I wanted to look on the bright side, and encourage it.

So, I decided to try and step in, at least give Tom some encouragement. No previous attempt had worked, but maybe this one would, now that I knew what Tom wanted. Or at least had an idea of what to aim at.

"Hey, need some help?" I asked, as Tom was washing up, despite having a dishwasher.

"No, no, it's fine." Tom shook his head, placing a plate on a rack to dry.

"At least let me dry this up, save you some time." I picked up the towel, not giving Tom a choice by drying up anyway. I was itching to do some cleaning for once, I felt like so entitled by letting Tom do all the housework around here. In mine and Dougie's house, I did all the housework, I loved it, I found it relaxing. Not doing it here was weird, even though it wasn't my own place. I was still living here and causing mess, I should have been helping to clear it up.

"Thank, thank you." Tom smiled shyly, I took it as a good sign.

"Not a problem. It gives you more time to spend with Buzz." I nudged him to look outside, where Dougie had picked Buzz up, and was carrying him around the garden, pretending the boy was flying like a superhero.

"I've got, there's a lot to do first." Tom shook his head, but he wasn't sure, he wanted to, it was clear to me that he _really_ wanted to. I just had to weedle my way in there, convince him that this was a good idea. This was a good start though, I just had to keep it up. Even if it didn't work today, maybe I could plant the idea in his head, and get him to let loose a bit another day.

"You've already tidied and cleaned up, and now you've done the washing up, I don't think there's anything else to do today." I was sure there wasn't anything else, Tom had done it all in the last few days.

Then again, he always seemed to do the same things every day. He hovered, dusted, tidied, did the washing every other day, shopped for food once a week. What else could he possibly be doing on top of that?

"There is, there's always things to do. The house needs to be clean." Tom sounded like he was reciting instructions. I cursed his wife again, for trying to ingrain this in his mind, acting like he _had_ to do these things every day, and not do the important things.

"Well can't it wait for after Buzz has gone to bed? He's not going to notice anything, and it's not like the house is an absolute tip." I asked, making it sound as much like an innocent question as I could.

"I..." Tom seemed to think about it for a second, _come on, agree with me, please agree with me._ He had to give in, he worked himself to the _bone_ every day, and it was clear from last night how much he wanted to spend time with Buzz, he had to give in. He had to go and play, even if it was just this once. Just this once was better than nothing.

"Go on, spend some time with him, leave the housework for another time. You're working yourself to the bone, go and have some fun." I nudged again, watching him fight indecision for a few minutes.

"I, I really shouldn't." Tom shook his head, indecision warring on his face.

"And Danny shouldn't sneakily eat crisps and chocolate all day long, and that doesn't exactly stop him, does it? Go on, it's been an _age_ since you've had fun with Buzz, go and hang out with him now." I encouraged again.

"O-Okay. After I've put Buzz's dry clothes away." Tom gave in, success!


	54. Chapter 54

**Anybody actually still care about this fic? Or am I posting to the void?**

52 Tom's POV

"Wheee!" Dougie was laughing, spinning Buzz round in a circle, "Super Buzz to the rescue!" my son was laughing hysterically at him, his whole face lit up in happiness. Could I step in and take over that? Could I _really_ step in and try and get involved, potentially ruin the game? My wife, she always told me I didn't know how to play with our son properly, that I ruined every game and attempt of happiness our son had.

Could I really step in now, try and join in?

"Hey Tom, do you need something?" Danny asked, when he noticed me.

"I, er..." what did I say? What did I possibly say right now?! Should I say that I wanted to join in? Ask if I could? What was the etiquette when it came to joining in with games with your own child?!

"Tom wants to play." Harry came up behind me, speaking like it was a perfectly normal occurrence, and like it would be perfectly fine.

"Why didn't you say so? We're having a lovely game of... hang Buzz upside down!" Dougie suddenly flipped Buzz in his arms, holding him by his legs. Buzz let out a scream of laughter, giggling madly in the way only a child could.

But why could I do? What could I do to join in? It was such a... it could only be played by an adult and a child! What could I do?!

Dougie walked Buzz to me handing him over to me, I righted him in my arms, but stopped. Really, what did I do now? I didn't have a _clue,_ I didn't... I hadn't played like this in so long, and until recently, I had only stood on the sidelines. What did the others do in situations like this? What did Carrie do when she was with Buzz? God, what did _anybody_ do when they were playing with my baby? I couldn't remember what they did! And nothing was coming to me either!

"Dada, ball, ball!" Buzz pushed himself forward, reaching out for his football, which had been left on the edge of the grass. He did love that football actually, almost as much as he loved his guitar. He _really_ liked those two, more than anything else.

"A game of football? That's a great idea Buzz!" Danny ran to grab it, pulling the goal into place. I put Buzz down, watching him run over, he stood about a foot away from the goal, lined up his shot, kicked the ball haphazardly in, screamed 'goal' and run around the garden.

I couldn't help but smile at the sight, it was so _cute,_ especially when he started the cycle again. Lining up the shot, kicking it in, shouting and running in celebration, over and over, all by himself and not caring in the slightest. He looked like such a happy child at that moment, and a perfectly normal one too. Not one who had lost his mother, and was left with a father who struggled with the simplest of tasks. It was... good, I guess. To know that he was well adjusted, or at least not completely screwed up by his parents. In fact, it was reassuring, to know that so far I wasn't affecting his happiness too much.

"I wonder where he gets _that_ from." Harry laughed in Danny's direction.

"It wasn't me! All I did was kick the ball around a bit!" Danny defended himself, cheering when Buzz did.

"Sure you did, of _course_ you did." Harry shook his head, everyone laughing softly together.

"Dada!" Buzz ran up to me, pulling on my trousers, and making me follow him. He kicked the ball into the goal again, "Look! Goal!" he grinned up at me, looking incredibly proud of himself.

"Well done Buzz." I bent down to his level, reaching out to ruffle his hair. That counted as interacting and being playful, didn't it? I mean, he laughed, so it had to count, right? Was this the right way to play? It didn't feel comfortable, or at all natural.

My instincts were telling me to hug him, possibly even pick him up and spin him around in victory, to make a massive fuss over his goal. Was that right though? It didn't sound right in my mind, especially considering what my wife used to say. She used to say that that type of behaviour was ridiculous, and was going to ruin him. She used to praise him though, and make a fuss of his achievements... she did it the right way though, I didn't think I was.


	55. Chapter 55

**Guest - ah I don't mind repetitive, I just like knowing that there's people out there enjoying this fic!**

* * *

53 Danny's POV

Buzz insisted that Tom stayed at his level for the entire time he was playing with his football, and wouldn't let his dad to go anywhere. Tom looked so _awkward_ to be standing there like that, but he stayed, congratulating Buzz on his goals in his own muted way. I could tell that he was proud, and happy to see his son happy, but wasn't exactly sure how to express it. But that was okay, things would get easier for him, the more practice he had, the more time he had to figure out that he could let loose a bit.

In the mean time, me, Harry and Dougie could do all the enthusiastic cheering and playing about. Buzz wouldn't miss out while Tom learnt, we made sure of that.

Which is how the game devolved into all of us having a very small kick about. It generally only consisted on passing the ball to each other, letting Buzz get in the way and kick the ball into the goal. We never kicked it too hard, or too far for him to reach, always softly, so he could catch it. Buzz really enjoyed the game, giggling as he ran and kicked, in his little wobbly way, still getting used to all this new movement. Every time the ball got anywhere near the goal, he cheered, clapping his hands when we did. Tom joined in, clapping him in praise, even giving him a few kisses for the better goals.

It was so cute to see, Buzz was an incredibly cute baby all the time, if I was honest. He was just... he was always so giggly and smiley, and always up for playing about. And he was pretty smart, for a kid. Already showing signs of musical talent, and learnt new words on a daily basis. He was so funny too, and a brilliant cuddler, just like his dad. I loved him dearly, like he was my child, if I was honest. We had spent so much time with him recently, it was hard to not love him, and feel like he was ours too. I just wished Tom would let us help out a bit more, not just play with him.

But he was so protective of his parental duties, he didn't want any help in the slightest. I even offered to help with bath time during dinner, but Tom declined, insisting that he could do it himself. I let him, knowing I wasn't going to win, not right now. Instead, I watched him take Buzz upstairs for his bath, waving as the child waved at us, before slumping back against the sofa.

"It was a good day today, Tom joined in more than usual, and Buzz had fun." Harry reminded me, it was the truth, but it was still hard to deal with. To be so removed from Tom's life, while _living_ with him, was hard. I wanted to help him, be with him, and just be a part of his and his son's life. I wanted to be more than Buzz's playmate, and Tom's song writing partner on occasion. I didn't know _what_ I wanted to be exactly, but it was more than I already was.

I couldn't explain it, not really, I just... I just wanted more. And I knew that Tom couldn't give it to me, everything he had been through prevented it, but it still didn't stop me from wanting it. I felt like we should have been a big part of Buzz's life ever since he was born. I'd always figured we would be, considering how close we all were, but we hadn't been so far. Apart from playing with him during tours, or during parties, we didn't really spend time with him.

All because of Tom's wife, she had prevented it, stopped Tom from letting us round, blocking us from seeing what was going on behind closed doors, and stopping him from seeing that he had been _built_ to be a parent, possibly more than anything else. More than being a musician, or a writer, or anything. Tom was built for parenthood. Between his pre-marriage childish nature, his never ending knowledge of Disney, and determination to get things right, he was the perfect candidate for it. More than any of us were, that was for certain.

"We'll get there Danny, I'm sure of it." Harry promised, I just wished he was right, so we could get what we wanted, what was meant to be.


	56. Chapter 56

**guest - kudos and hit count is nice, but comments are still the best thing for a writer to see on their work!**

54 Tom's POV

I didn't know how long I sat upstairs, watching Buzz sleep. I just couldn't look away from him, and really did not want to be any further away from him than I was right now. He was... that last therapy session had hit me hard, reminding me of how much my wife had said to me over the years, ever since I failed to write a song for him before he was born. I wanted to prove to him that I was here for him, that I loved him, that everything his mother had said wasn't true.

But I eventually had to go though, to get something done. I shouldn't have spent so long playing with him today, I should have been cleaning, or doing something productive. So, with a sigh, I got up, leaving the bedroom and heading downstairs to finish my work for the day. I still had to wash the floors, put away Buzz's toys, prepare our meals for the next day, and make sure that the bag was ready for tomorrow's therapy session.

With that done, it was gone 2am, so I gave up and headed to bed, sleeping restlessly. I never slept well before therapy, and today had been a very bad day. It shouldn't have been, but I should have been busy clearing up, like my wife always told me to do. Not indulging our son, especially not when he was busy with others. I shouldn't have listened to Harry, it was wrong, it was _so_ wrong.

"Why would you say it was wrong?" Natasha asked, when I explained it the next day. She had asked, because I was acting anxious, she said we couldn't do anything unless I was clear headed.

"Because it meant that the house was in disarray! I should have been sorting that out, should have made sure that everything was prepared for today, instead of wasting time when other people were able to look after Buzz." I explained, "There's a time and a place to play with the kids, and that wasn't it."

"Why would you say that?" Natasha continued softly, why was she talking like that? Why wasn't she seeing the obvious here?!

"Because that's the rules, that's how things work. You prepare for outings, make sure that the house is clean and presentable for every occasion, and play with your children _after_ all of that, not before." it was ingrained in me, I knew what I had to do, all the time. That was the routine, that was what I had to stick with, or everything would fall to pieces.

"Who told you that?" Natasha looked almost nervous to ask.

"My wife did." She knew that! She _knew!_

"And why did she tell you that?" Natasha was fiddling with her pen, but wouldn't look away from me.

"Because I wasn't doing it, and she wasn't going to do all the work herself." I answered, she refused to do everything herself, while I sat on my arse with the baby all the time, no doubt fucking him up.

"Okay, and after you started doing all this work, did she ever help out, or leave everything to you?" Natasha asked, I thought back, trying to remember how days used to work.

"Er, I never really saw her do much, apart from look after Buzz," I couldn't remember ever seeing her doing much but look after our son, but maybe I had been too distracted by whatever I was doing to notice.

"Did you notice her ever doing anything but looking after Buzz, did she ever help you? Or let you look after the baby while she did some housework? Or say you could do those things after he had gone to bed?" Natasha questioned.

"I, I don't understand, why does this matter?" I didn't understand why that mattered in the slightest. This wasn't helping me look after my son properly.

"I'm just trying to figure out what you're used to doing on a daily basis, so please, if you can, answer the question." Natasha pushed on, "Did she ever swap duties, or let you do it all after he went to bed?"

"N-No. She, erm, she made me do everything. Said... Said I'd be better doing the housework. It kept me away from Buzz." I sighed, _hating_ having to repeat these conversations. It was uncomfortable, and just felt _wrong_ to repeat. What if she saw the truth, or thought I was useless? I couldn't do this all myself, I really couldn't. I knew I couldn't. But I didn't want to admit that, I didn't want Buzz taken from me, I didn't want to prove my wife right for the thousandth time. Not about this, really not about this.

"Alright, and do you think that's normal?" Natasha was still looking at me.

"It is when one parent can't be trusted to do anything else." I hung my head.

"Have you heard of anybody else doing something like this?" Natasha asked, I shook my head.

"But you don't think that it's odd, to push one parent into just doing housework, because they may not be as natural as the other?" she continued.

"Yes." I was sure of it, it wouldn't be fair on a child to force them to endure terrible parenting, especially when it could mess with their minds.

"What if this was, say... Harry and Dougie have a child. And while Harry does more of the housework usually, he forced Dougie to do it all instead, once their baby was born? What if he made Dougie do all that, and never spend time with his son, because he wasn't as good a parent as he was?" no, Natasha... she didn't...

"No, because Dougie would be a great father, just as Harry would be. They're both incredibly good at looking after children." I'd seen it myself, they were brilliant with Buzz.

"But say Dougie wasn't, say that he wasn't good, and he made mistakes, would it be fair to force him to do housework instead of spending any time with his child?" Natasha pushed on.

"No, because he would love that child, and would want to spend time with them, and improve his skills until he became good." I answered, he would want to improve, and it wouldn't be fair on him to not allow that.

"So why is okay for you to be forced out like that then?"


	57. Chapter 57

55 Harry's POV

Tom came back from therapy looking incredibly distracted, like he was completely and utterly lost in a thought he couldn't quite decipher. He was utterly lost by the looks of it, and I had no idea by what. Surely therapy couldn't have been that bad, could it?

Though... maybe Natasha had started bringing him round to the idea that he had been mistreated. God, how would that even _look?_ Like this? Or would he be more jittery, or trying to deny it? I didn't know, wasn't sure what to expect with that. Natasha had said that she would warn us when she was talking to him about that, but she hadn't, so maybe this wasn't it. Maybe this was something else. But what else could make Tom so lost in thought, so much so he was barely paying attention to the mess his son was making of his lunchtime banana?

"Penny for your thoughts?" I asked, making Tom jump feet, "Sorry."

"Huh? No, no need. I was... I was thinking." Tom snapped into the world, immediately reaching for wipes to clean up the mush on Buzz's face. He'd somehow gotten it in his _hair,_ I didn't even know that was possible.

"I could see that, need to talk about it?" I added a smile to that, trying to appear friendly.

"Erm, no, it's fine." Tom shook his head, flashing a smile back at me, though it was clearly the fakest one he had given yet.

"You sure? It looks like a serious bit of thought." I pushed gently, hoping to get something.

"It wasn't, just, just thinking of what I need to get with the shopping." Tom lied, so damn obviously lied.

"Alright, but if you do need anything, we're here, alright?" I decided to leave it, thanks to past experience. Instead, I settled for squeezing his shoulder, and doing the washing up for him while he cleaned up Buzz, making the most of his distraction.

Tom didn't come to any of us, instead, when looking at the baby monitor again, we discovered him sitting in Buzz's room, on his laptop this time. He had seated himself on the opposite wall to Buzz's cot, and was reading something. What though none of us could tell, the picture was too grainy to see. Whatever it was, Tom was very interested in it.

"That's new." Danny commented, squinting like that would help him figure out what was on the screen.

"Very. When was the last time we saw Tom with a laptop?" it had to be last year during a meeting or something. For a minute, I was quite glad that we were in break mode, so Tom didn't have to deal with band life while he was dealing with this. Also, I was glad to know that Fletch understood too, he was fully supportive of Tom regaining his footing after his wife left him, and for him getting to the bottom of his problems. How long it would take though was another question, and I think we all feared him telling us that we were needed for some TV thing. How Tom would cope with that in his state was anyone's guess.

"Er, last year?" Danny answered my question, "And he really wasn't that into it then."

"He hasn't played World Of Warcraft with me in a long, or any other game." Dougie spoke up, that was also true, thinking about it. I couldn't remember the last time I'd walked past our games room to hear Dougie shouting something about Call Of Duty, or even mentioning having a game of something against Tom.

"That he hasn't." So this was definitely new, and very different. Something had to be up. Or at least there was a change coming to Tom's behaviour. Though why he was risking waking his son up from the light coming from his laptop was anyone's guess.

Tom at that point shifted a bit, drawing our attention back to him. He started to chew on his finger nails, but then stopped himself, instead starting to look _very_ uncomfortable.

"It doesn't make sense." He muttered to himself, shutting the laptop, "She was right, she was always right."


	58. Chapter 58

56 Dougie's POV

Tom never said anything more on the subject of his wife being right, and didn't have another research night in Buzz's room either. He may have been doing it in his bedroom, or in his music room, none of us could tell. But one thing was for certain, he was stuck in thought. Constantly. Literally, all day he was thinking about something, and thinking about something _hard._ Whatever had been said in his therapy sessions had been huge, and it was taking up a lot of thought space.

I wished I knew what he was thinking about, so we could discuss it. I knew that discussing whatever was on his mind was a constructive thing, and it really helped. I talked to my therapist, and my sponsor, constantly, when I was recovering. And after that, I talked to Harry, I told him as much as I could, whenever I could. Sometimes I was consumed with the need to hide it all inside, to keep quiet and small, but I always fought against it, and forced myself to talk. It was tough, and took _days_ to work up the courage sometimes, but it was worth it in the end, to get everything off my chest, and to work through it all. Bottling up did nothing, things needed to be talked about.

The thing was, Tom _knew_ he could talk to us, but he felt like he couldn't. Whatever he was thinking about was too big for him to say, and he clearly didn't believe it either, judging by what he had said to himself that one night.

So really, the only thing we could do was let him think it through, let Natasha talk to him instead, wait for him to open up. Pick up where he left off with Buzz, while he did whatever he thought he needed to do for the day, which seemed to be taking him twice as long, thanks to his constant 'lost in thought' expression. He wasn't really paying attention to _anything,_ hadn't all week. Not since his internet search in Buzz's room. He had done everything on autopilot, even Buzz's bedtime was done only half-conscious. It looked like Tom was going through the motions, while everything else was focused on whatever he was thinking about.

We all picked up on it, even _Buzz_ noticed. He could tell his dad wasn't all there in the moment with him, no matter how much he clung to him, spoke to him, took his glasses, or gave him things. Tom just was completely absent. Completely and utterly absent, caught up entirely in his head.

"Come on Buzz, daddy is busy at the moment." I picked the boy up, stopping him from running to Tom, who was cleaning up the kitchen.

Buzz whined sadly, reaching out for his dad with grabby hands.

"I know kiddo, I know how much you want to go cuddle your dad, but he's got a lot on his mind." I knew that Tom wouldn't usually, that he'd manage to somehow clean while carrying his son, had seen him do it many a time already, but right now it wasn't a good idea. He needed time to think, to work out whatever it was. I understood that need very well. Therapy was _hard,_ and difficult to cope with, especially when something had been said that changed your entire world view. You just had to work it through, however you felt comfortable. At least, until you could discuss it with others.

"Dada!" Buzz whined, sniffing.

"Oh no, don't cry little dude, we're here, and Daddy will be back soon." I bounced him gently, "Come on, let's put on Peppa Pig." I turned the TV on, turning it over to Buzz's favourite show, trying to get him to focus on that, but he only wanted his dad.

It broke my heart to see his desperation, to see how much he wanted Tom with him. I would have given him to him if I thought it was a good idea. But Tom was not paying attention right now, he wasn't paying attention to _anything._ He was just... he was stuck thinking, doing everything on autopilot. Not good for looking after an eighteen month old child right now. Any other time I would have happily given Buzz over, but not right now. He needed to think.

"Shh, shh Buzz, it's okay. Daddy is just out there, he'll be back for cuddles soon." Only two hours until bedtime, we could survive until then. We could keep Buzz distracted for that long, couldn't we? We could, we really could, as long as he stopped thinking about Tom.

"Dada!" Buzz sniffed again, reaching out as far as his little arms let him, tears forming in his eyes.

"No, please don't cry, please don't try! It's okay kiddo, it's okay." I tried desperately to calm him, but couldn't stop him from bursting into tears, calling out for Tom.

Tom didn't even notice.


	59. Chapter 59

57 Tom's POV

It couldn't be true, my wife was always right, had always _been_ right. What she did hadn't been wrong. She had been protecting our son from my bad parenting, I did all the housework, shopping, and everything else because it was the thing that caused less damage. Still caused damage when I screwed it up, but still considerably less than messing up parenting did. It wasn't wrong, it really wasn't wrong. Just because the same wouldn't be said for people like Harry and Dougie, didn't mean it was wrong for my wife and I.

I mean, she was the best person to look after the baby, she knew what to do, and how to do it right, while I didn't. I spoiled him too much, played with him wrong, wasn't home long enough to actually bond with Buzz in the first place. She was at home though, she was always at home, and she knew what she was doing. She could look after our son, and do it well. It was only fair that I do everything else, even if it wasn't a good enough job. Of course it was, that was how relationships worked, give and take, sharing out duties.

"Tom, if that were true, if she truly thought that you weren't capable of looking after Buzz, why did she leave him with you? Why did she go without him?" Natasha asked at the next therapy session.

"I, I don't know." I didn't... it didn't make sense, but there had to be reason, "Maybe it's all just a test. Maybe she's testing me, to see if I can learn to be a good parent." Yeah, maybe that was it. That had to be it, that was the only explanation that made sense, right?

"If it was a test, wouldn't she have come back by now? Or not left at all, so she could help you get better?" Natasha continued, she was speaking softly, like she was worried about what she was saying. Why was she worried? I didn't understand!

"No, because I'm infuriating when I'm trying to learn something. She knows this, after years of trying with me, she knows she can't stand me when I'm failing over and over. She probably left so I could learn without annoying her." that had to be it, it had to be. She wouldn't just leave me with our son, she wouldn't put him through that, unless it was for a reason.

"Tom, what did she say to you when she left? I mean, right before she left?" Natasha leant forward, not looking that menacing, but it still made me feel trapped. I couldn't, I didn't like how this conversation was going, I didn't understand what it was implying, or where Natasha was going with it.

"She said, she said that she had had enough of me, of me being absolutely useless. She, she was done with it all." With that, she had left, no matter how much I begged and pleaded with her.

"Tom, does that sound like someone who's testing you?" Natasha asked, still so soft.

"Y-Yes... No." It didn't, it didn't sound like a test. It sounded like she had left forever, and wasn't coming back. All because of me, all because of me being a _stupid_ moron. Such a stupid, useless husband and father, I should have done better, I should have done _so_ much better.

"It sounds like someone trying to hurt you, and hurt you really badly." Natasha continued for me, I didn't like where this was going, it didn't make sense, but there was something in the back of my mind _screaming_ at me that this was making sense. That Natasha was getting at something very important, and very, very dangerous.

"She wasn't trying... I sometimes... harsh words sometimes help to motivate me to do the right thing." That was all, sometimes I needed to hear very harsh words to get something through my thick skull. She wasn't trying to hurt me deliberately, or anything like that.

"And how many times has she used harsh words against you, even when you're not arguing?" Natasha asked, what was she getting at?! What was she trying to say to me?! I didn't understand, even as the ringing got louder and louder, I didn't understand!

"I, not that... it was normal! It's normal for us, it isn't wrong!" it wasn't wrong, it was never wrong! It was how we worked, nothing more!

"Tom, how normal is it for someone's partner to shout abuse at them as _motivation_ to do better at something? Shouldn't it be more gentle encouragement instead?" Natasha questioned, not for us, never for us. We weren't... we were different.

"O-Other couples don't usually involve someone as useless as me." it was how _we_ worked, it was how we got on with things, it wasn't a bad thing!

"Using my example from last week, would you expect Harry to shout abuse at Dougie if he didn't do something to his standards? Would he refuse to let Dougie near their child, and constantly put him down?" Natasha kept on pushing, the alarm was _screaming._

"No! Because Dougie has had problems with his health in the past, and because Harry loves him, he wouldn't do something like that!" wait, that didn't sound right. My wife loved me, I knew she loved me, that's why she stayed with me, she didn't... that wasn't what I meant!

"Wait, she did love me! She loved me, that's why she stayed for so long! She was trying to make me better!" I backtracked desperately, I hadn't meant to say that!

"Tom, think about it, did she _really_ love you? Did she ever show you affection, or treat you kindly? Compare yourself to Harry and Dougie, your other friends, and their relationships, are they at all similar to what you experienced?" Natasha wasn't right, there wasn't... she was lying!

"No! No you're not right! You're lying!" she had to be lying, this all had to be a lie!

"What would I be lying about?" Natasha continued, still sounding so soft, but it didn't... I couldn't...

"About... I don't know!" I wanted this to stop, I needed this to stop.

"Exactly, I'm not lying about anything Tom, I'm simply asking you to look at things in a different light, a light that is hard to look into. Do you understand what I'm saying about your relationship with your wife?" Natasha made me shake my head, the alarm bells ringing so loudly I wanted to cover my ears, so I didn't have to hear any of this anymore.

"I'm really, really, so sorry Tom, but I do think that you were abused."


	60. Chapter 60

**Guest - I do love the angst! xD**

58 Danny's POV

Tom didn't come home at the usual time. He was currently three hours late, and I was starting to go from worried to _terrified._ Where was he?! Where had he gone? Had something happened? Was he still at Natasha's? But why would he still be there now, hours after his usual appointment time end? If he wasn't, where was he? He couldn't have gone far, could he?

"Right, I'm phoning Natasha's office." Harry picked up his phone, ringing the number that was practically on speed dial at this point, "Hello, sorry it's Harry Judd again. We were wondering if Tom is still with Natasha? He's not home yet."

"Hm, I haven't seen him, let me just check." The receptionist answered, muffled footsteps walking away from the phone.

"He's probably still just in session with Natasha." Harry tried to reassure us.

"Yeah, maybe he needs longer to talk." Dougie sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself with that.

"Hopefully." I hoped he was still there, and that he was okay. Oh God please tell me that he was okay, and wasn't in any sort of trouble!

The footsteps came back, some scuffling on the other end of the line.

"Erm, Natasha has asked if you could possibly come down to pick Tom up. He's... Today's session has taken a lot out of him, and Natasha thinks it's best if you have a chat and take him home." The receptionist explained, he needed _what?_ What the hell happened?!

"Of course, we'll be right there." Harry hung up, the three of us running to the car, racing off to the therapist's office.

The whole way there, my thoughts raced as to what had happened today. What could they have _possibly_ been talking about? Was it related back to Tom's recent distraction? Had Natasha made him realise that he was abused? Had she said something else groundbreaking to him?

Was Tom now panicking? Was he in denial? Had he had a serious reaction to it all? _What was he doing_ right now? Oh God I was worried, what did we do? And what was Natasha going to ask us about? This was getting scary, so, so scary.

We got to the office within twenty minutes, and barely waited to park the car before running into the office.

"Where's Tom?" I called as we ran burst through the front doors.

"Through here, follow me, Natasha will be out soon, she's still in with Tom." The receptionist told us, leading us down to Natasha's office at a ridiculously slow pace. Why wasn't she moving faster? She was going too slow, we had to get to Tom right now!

"What happened?" Harry asked, clearly trying not to walk faster, just like I was.

"Natasha has been slowly leading Tom to realising what his wife has been doing, and I think today was supposed to be getting him at least close to the idea, and he hasn't taken it that well." She explained, "Natasha was going to ring you to explain on Tom's way home, but she's been with him, trying to help him understand." _Oh God, oh God, oh God._

"How is he?" I was desperate to know, what was he doing?!

"He's shaken, there were a few tears, and denial, he's still coming to terms with things right now." she explained, "I'm sure Natasha will be able to calm him down soon, she's very good in situations like this. And she will have a long chat with you too, so you know exactly what happened today, and how to support Tom in this."

"Is this how people normally react?" I asked, I wanted to know, I wanted to know that somehow Tom would be okay after this. If others reacted in the same way, and got better, then Tom would too. Surely, he would get better, and he'd recover from this shock, or not be too badly affected by it.

"Everyone reacts differently, it depends on the level of abuse, and a lot of other factors. But in terms of the emotions Tom's going through, it's all fairly, not exactly _standard,_ but it's in the general area." That was good, that was good right?! "That's a good thing, if you weren't sure. It means we know what to do, and how to help him accept things."

"Okay, okay, that's... that's good." I was pretty sure that that was the right reaction.

"He'll be fine, I assure you. Natasha is great with her patients; these things do sometimes take time. She'll be out with you soon, once she's sure Tom's safe to be left alone for a few minutes. Would you like anything while you wait?" Tom, safe and sound, that would be good.

"No, no thank you." Harry shook his head, the receptionist leaving us alone. To wait, for however long for Natasha, and to see Tom, and see what state he was in.


	61. Chapter 61

**guest - :D**

59 Harry's POV

Danny paced obsessively while we waited for Natasha to come out, while Dougie barely breathed. I tried to stop him from passing out, and Danny to stop pacing, pushing all my emotions to the back of my mind. One of us had to be calm, one of us had to have to a level head, if not just to make sure Tom didn't react badly to us. He needed a calm environment, without us freaking him out more, he was going to be fragile, and in need of help. We needed to help him, and freaking out right now was not going to help him. Freak out later, right now focus on what we had to do to help him.

But it was hard work, all of us getting more and more worked up for what felt like _hours_ while we waited for Tom to get out of his session, or for Natasha to get Tom in a state where she could leave him. What was taking so long?! How traumatised was he exactly?!

Eventually though, Natasha came to our room, looking worse for wear herself.

"Where's Tom, what happened, is he okay?!" Danny shouted as soon as he saw her, running to stand directly in front of her, practically _vibrating_ with the need for answers.

"Tom is currently in my office, taking a few minutes to collect himself on his own, my assistant will be checking up on him periodically while I talk to you, and once he is ready, I'll take you to him." Natasha sighed, that... that didn't sound too good.

"What happened?" I repeated Danny's question, scared to know the answer, but needing to find out.

"Well, for the last few weeks, I have been trying to bring Tom round to the idea that his marriage was not what it seemed, and that he was in fact abused by his wife." Well that explained his pre-occupation recently, "Today was the day that he fully realised it. Or at least, has started to realise it."

"And he didn't take it so well?" judging by all of this, I would say he _really_ did not take this news well.

"I'm afraid not, but if it's any comfort, he's reacted very similarly to others in similar situations, so we knew what to do to help him." Natasha explained, "At first, he was in denial, and refused to believe it, and then he became fearful of what I was telling him. It's a perfectly natural reaction, and that is what has taken all this time."

"How afraid was he?" I didn't like the sound of that, not one bit.

"I wouldn't say he was _afraid,_ but the realisation does cause a lot of fear in a lot of people, because their whole world view is being turned upside down. To them, they've been in a loving relationship, one that could quite possibly have started out just like every other normal relationship, that evolved into something terrible. In Tom's case, he's thought for years that he's been in a relationship with a loving wife who was trying to make him a 'better' person, but he's just realised that in fact she was lying to him the whole time, using him and beating him down for no clear reason. It's an incredibly hard thing to process, and generally comes out as fear." Natasha made it sound so simple, but it made my stomach twist so much I felt sick.

"Is, is he going to be okay?" Danny looked slightly pale, hugging himself tight.

"He will be, in time. At the moment, he's in a bit of shock, and will probably be for a while. All I can recommend you do is to support him in whatever way you can. Don't force him to talk, because he will most likely not be up for talking right now, but let him know you're there. Sit with him, make sure he eats and sleeps, things like that. If he asks questions, try your best to answer them, and make sure that you tell him that it was in no way his fault." Natasha explained, "He's incredibly fragile right now, and he desperately needs to know he has people in his corner, even if it's just subconsciously."

"If he's that fragile, shouldn't you be monitoring him?" It wasn't that I didn't want to look after Tom, I did, but if he was that fragile, shouldn't Natasha be looking after him? She was the psychiatrist, trained in these things, shouldn't she be monitoring him?

"Only if he desperately needs it, what Tom really needs right now, is familiar surroundings, and love from people he knows and trusts. He'll do much better at home, but if he does get worse, or doesn't seem to be coming back to himself, then please do bring him back in again, in case there is something very wrong happening. He should be fine in a few days though, most people are." Most people weren't bipolar though, "His bipolar shouldn't affect this if he's still on his medications, but I'd keep an eye out for that too. He'll be down for a while, but he shouldn't be in a down swing, as long as the medication is still being taken."

"Can we see him now?" Dougie asked, the poor boy shaking in my arms, his skin looking a bit green, as if he was about to throw up... or pass out.

"Of course, come with this way." I wasn't sure if I wanted to see the state Tom was in or not.


	62. Chapter 62

**no idea what happened when I first tried to post this chapter, hopefully this works! Thanks to Guest for pointing it out!**

60 Dougie's POV

I felt sick, I felt really, really sick. I was going to throw up, at any second, or pass out, one of the two, for certain. But I couldn't, not right now, I had to be upright and ready to look after Tom in any way I could. He was in trouble, and needed emotional support, we had to give it to him, we had to help him in any way we could. He was in shock, we had to help. But how was he? Was he talking? Was he lifeless? What was he feeling? What was he even _doing?_ I hadn't experienced this before, didn't know what to expect. I knew what to expect with some things, but this wasn't one of them!

Walking towards Natasha's office felt like some sort of death march, like we were walking towards some terrible fate, and we weren't even the ones who were ill right now! Did Tom feel like this every time he came here? Would he want to come back again, after this? Or would he be too scared to, in case something bad happened to him again? I was scared to find out, scared to know what was behind that door, scared of it all.

Heading towards the door, my stomach churned more than I thought possible. More than when I'd entered this building for the first time, knowing that I wouldn't be leaving for at least a month. This was worse, this was so, so much worse than that. I didn't know how Tom was going to react to us. Or how he was going to be at all. Was he even allowed to go home now? Or was Natasha going to keep him here? Oh god if she kept him here, how long would he stay?

What if she made him stay for weeks on end? Or decided he couldn't ever come home, thanks to what his wife had done to him? Or what if she took Buzz away from him because she thought he couldn't look after I'm anymore?

"Breathe Doug, breathe." Harry whispered in my ear, as we reached the door.

"Now remember, please try to be gentle, don't make loud sounds, or anything like that. Tom is very fragile, and needs time to adjust." Natasha warned, though gently, before opening the door.

Tom... just, oh God, Tom looked rough.

Tom was curled in a ball on the sofa, hugging his knees to his chest, skin so pale he looked like a corpse. If he hadn't been breathing so raggedly I would have thought he was dead. He was just so still, and looked so gone.

"Tom, your friends are here." Natasha spoke softly, making Tom look up to see us.

"I, I wasn't... she didn't..." Tom whispered, eyes so wide.

"It's okay Tom. We don't have to talk about it right now." Natasha replied in the same tone as before, "You can go over to him, if you want." She whispered to us.

I didn't think I could move, my stomach churning so much I was scared to go. Harry didn't move either, holding me, like he was scared I'd fall over. I wasn't sure if he was right or not.

Danny though, he managed to go over, bending down near Tom, looking up at our friend.

"She didn't. She didn't do anything like that." Tom insisted again.

"Okay Tom, we don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to." Danny smiled, reaching out to hold Tom's hand.

"But she didn't. I swear she didn't. We, we were happy." Tom carried on.

"Toms been in this loop for a while, he's still in denial, and I'm not sure when he's going to break out of it. Now we can do one of two things now, we can either keep him overnight for observation, or you can take him home, to see if he can break out of it within similar surroundings." Natasha explained, "Neither is worse than the other, and both can work for people. So it's really up to you."

My stomach dropped at the thought, my fears feeling like they were being realised.

"What would happen to Buzz?" I asked, he couldn't be taken away, Tom could not deal with his son being taken away, especially not in this state.

"We have cots for babies, and supplies for situations like this. We wouldn't dream of separating parent and child, so have everything we need to create a safe environment for children too, as well with people who can look after children when the parent can't." Natasha explained, still so soft, so carefully. Like no matter what we said, it would be okay.

"So, so you wouldn't take him away?" Harry held me closer, his arms fully crossing my chest and pulling me so close I could hardly breathe.

"Not for this. We do our best to help, not make things worse." Natasha explained, as Danny distracted Tom, despite looking so scared himself.

"He would only be here for a few days, just to make sure that he's not going to be a harm to himself, or that he's not going to have a severe reaction." This wasn't a severe reaction?

How wasn't this a severe reaction? Tom couldn't stop insisting he wasn't abused, looked near dead too, how was this not a severe reaction? What the hell counted as severe? Did we even want to know?

"I, what do we do?" Harry looked as lost as I felt.

"Personally, I would recommend keeping him in, at least over night, to make sure he's okay. Tom's has had a large shock, and it's difficult to ascertain how he is going to be when he calms down. And that's without considering his bipolar on top of that." I hadn't even thought of that, how was Tom's bipolar going to affect this all? Sometimes the slightest thing could push him into one swing or other, what would this do? This huge news, that completely rewrote his relationship with his wife, the wife he had been with for eleven years.

"I assure you, Tom will come home again if he stays with us over night, we just want to monitor him, and help him anyway we can. This is a big shock, and he needs time to work it all out. He can do that here, if you want him to, or you can take him home too, if you think you can manage him while he's in this state." Natasha reassured, it didn't feel right, neither option felt right!

"Can we think about it?" Harry asked, his hold me near crushing.

"Of course, take as long as you need." Natasha smiled, gesturing for us to go over to Tom, and figure out what we were going to do.


	63. Chapter 63

61 Danny's POV

"It was for the best, she, she loved me. It wasn't abuse, it wasn't abuse." Tom was whispering.

I couldn't get Tom to say anything more, nothing was coming out of his mouth apart from 'she didn't abuse me' or something along those lines. Nothing else came out, he was just repeating it, over and over and over again, like he couldn't stop. He physically couldn't stop, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't stop saying it, no matter how many times I told him that it was okay, we didn't have to talk about it.

"She, she didn't. she loved me, she loved me. It was for the best." Tom whispered as Harry and Dougie sat down, looking at them like he was trying desperately for them to understand what he was saying too.

"It's alright Tom, you don't have to say anything to us about it." Harry gave him a gentle smile, both hands still protective around Dougie's middle, despite sitting down. His grip was so tight, I was surprised he wasn't hurting his husband. Not that I blamed him for holding him like that, this place seemed to make him very protective, more protective than I could have imagined.

I wanted to do the same with Tom, but doubted I would be able to any time soon. He looked as if the simplest of touch would shatter him into pieces, or make him snap even further than he already had. Still, I wanted to hold him in my arms, tell him that it was all okay, that he'd get through this, that we'd all get through this together. I wanted to pick up all the pieces that made him and put them back together again, until he stopped acting like this, and moved on in whatever way he could.

"She loved me, I swear she loved me." Tom said again, somehow not disturbing Buzz. The baby was asleep in his carrier, though I had to admit, he didn't look at all peaceful. His tiny face was screwed up in what could have been worry, or he was being disturbed from his sleep by our voices. At least he wasn't awake, I wouldn't want him to see his father looking like this, or hearing any of this, if he didn't have to, even if he couldn't understand what was going on.

"It's okay Tom, we know that. And we can go home now, if you want, or you can stay here too, if you want, or need, too." Harry was saying, I'd half heard the conversation between, him, Dougie and Natasha, and I _really_ didn't like the idea of Tom staying the night. Even with Natasha's reassurances that he'd be allowed home again once he was alright, and that Buzz would not be taken from him, I still felt like I couldn't trust that.

I knew I could trust this place, knew it because Tom had been here before, and Dougie had _stayed_ here before. But it didn't feel right, leaving Tom to go home, and pretend that things were fine. He didn't deserve to be _left_ here like some sort of forgotten thing, it didn't feel right. It wasn't right, in the slightest. Tom deserved to come home. He deserved to be in his own house, surrounded by his own comforts, not snuck away and kept in a blank, white hospital, away from the things that could make him feel safe.

But at the same time, could we look after him? I didn't know if we could. He was in such a state, he needed help, and I didn't think any of us knew what to do to help him. It wasn't... we hadn't dealt with this before. We'd dealt with him being silent, or really angry, things like that. Nothing like this though, never anything like this. Not this repetition, or the fear on his face, none of it. How did you even _begin_ with something like this?!

"Tom, would you like to go home, or stay here? You can stay here and talk to me some more if you want to, and Buzz can stay too if you wish. It's up to you though, and whatever you choose, it's okay." Natasha came over too, her voice so gentle. I don't think I had ever heard her so gentle in my life, and yet it wasn't grating, or condescending. It was just right.

"I, I want to go home." Tom whispered. I was more than happy to take him, but what did we _do_ with him like this?! I didn't know, and I was scared about how this was going to unfold.


	64. Chapter 64

62 Tom's POV

My wife didn't abuse me, she _couldn't_ have abused me, she loved me. Everything she did was for a purpose - to make me a better person/husband/father. It wasn't out of cruelty, or because she was an abuser! She didn't abuse me, it wasn't abuse, it really _wasn't_ abuse.

Like, like when she was shouting at me because of I couldn't come up with a song for Buzz before he was born, she was disappointed in me, and rightly so. I was a song writer for a living, I should have been able to write a song for our son without an issue. She was right to question my ability to be a father, my love for our child, she was right to do it. She was right to be disappointed. It was fine, it was justified, it wasn't abuse, _it wasn't abuse._

Getting home, I was hit with memories in every room, memories of her shouting at me, of her pushing me to be better, everything she did. And for most, I had a justification. I fucked up, or did something bad, or failed to do something at all, and she shouted at me, tried to correct me. That was how things worked, that was how we did things. It was our relationship, just because it wasn't like other peoples, didn't mean it wasn't right, didn't mean it was something as horrible as _abuse._

I mean, we still... there was affection in there. We used to hug all the time, and kiss, every day. There was affection there, there was always affection. Weren't abusers violent and cold? Didn't they hurt everyone around them, not just one person? Because she only ever lost her temper with me, never with anyone else, _especially_ Buzz. She was always so kind with Buzz, played with him, held him, acted like the perfect mother. She _never_ laid a finger on him, not like that. So she couldn't be abusive, could she? It was just, she was just trying to make me better, that was all, she was trying to make me better. There was nothing wrong with that.

Natasha was wrong, so wrong, my wife loved me, it wasn't abuse.

But, at the same time, I couldn't help but have a little alarm bell in my head, one that had been ringing all week, ever since Natasha brought it up last week... some things didn't feel _right,_ looking back.

Like how she used to turn against me when everyone went home after a dinner party, or some sort of social outing. She'd be smiling and happy, and very affectionate with me, when we were around people. And then we'd go home, and she'd immediately turn, tell me everything I did wrong. The smile would drop instantly, anger taking over. It wasn't disappointment, it was _anger,_ straight away.

But she wouldn't have been able to shout at me in public, that would have caused a scene... _but,_ it was so instant, and she'd turn so quickly. She used to make me apologise for _everything._ A-And she made me change how I dressed, made me get rid of my 'nerdy' and 'scruffy' clothes, made sure I was _always_ presentable and smart, even when we were alone in the house.

She never let me hold our son either, or play with him, even when he was first born. I wasn't allowed to spend hours cooing over him, or enjoying holding the tiny little life we had created, as soon as we were home from the hospital, she put me to work again, like nothing had changed. She said it was to keep me from screwing him up, to keep our son away from me. And I'd believed her, especially after the song writing thing. But I'd proved to her that I loved our son, throughout the pregnancy. I'd read the books, watched the instructional videos, gone to all the classes. I'd made copious amounts of notes, and done _everything_ I was supposed to do and more, but she still hadn't let me hold him.

In fact, she barely let me do anything with him. I used to have to sneak play time, and cuddle time, and general _bonding_ time, when she was out of the room. That wasn't right, was it? How did she know I was going to be useless, if I hadn't even tried? I was useless at everything else, but what if I'd been good at looking after Buzz? She hadn't let me try, she had taken over, and pushed me out. She pushed me out of everything that wasn't looking after the house, and then still shouted at me for doing as I was told.

The bell was screaming as I thought of it, of all the situations that didn't add up. The times when she refused to let me in, the times she shouted and put me down for the slightest thing, the times she changed the second we were alone.

Could it be possible? Could I have actually been abused?


	65. Chapter 65

63 Harry's POV

Tom was stuck in his head for the rest of the day by the time we got home, so stuck in thought he barely noticed anything. He managed to eat, and put Buzz to bed, but he was very clearly stuck in thought, processing what Natasha had told him today. Not that I blamed him, hearing that had to be a shock, a massive one at that too.

"She didn't hurt you though, she never laid a finger on you." Tom whispered to a sleeping Buzz, as we watched over the monitors. We weren't being nosy, we were just keeping an eye on him, like Natasha had told us to. Keep an eye on him, make sure he eats and sleeps, try our best to support him, and answer any questions we could. Anything we couldn't answer, phone her and let him talk to her. Anything looking more serious, we had to take him back her straight away, to make sure everything was okay.

"And she was never cruel to you, or ignored you. It was only me. Isn't that the opposite of... it couldn't have been. It _couldn't,_ but she was always so... but I would have noticed, I would have _noticed._ " Tom was whispering, Buzz oblivious. The kid could sleep through anything, or at least people talking to him, thankfully.

"I don't know, I don't _know._ " Tom sighed, leaning his head against the bars of the cot, "Some of it is weird, but it was _us,_ it was how we always worked. Was it wrong? Was she wrong? She was never wrong about me."

"But she separated me from you, right from the start. I was only allowed to hold you in public, the rest of the time I was pushed away. I barely got the chance to _look_ at you some days." A tear slid down Tom's face, he wiped away, "She always said it was for the best. She _always_ said it was for the best."

He deliberated to himself for a long time, before getting up, heading to his own room, where we couldn't see, apparently to think some more. Or possibly research, like he had done last week.

"Is this a good thing?" Dougie asked, fiddling with a piece of his hair.

"I, I think so. I mean, he's started to accept it, or at least considering it thoroughly. That's a good sign." That had to be a good sign. A bad sign would be straight up denial and refusal to even considering it for a second. This was actually Tom thinking about it, reviewing the relationship, figuring out if it could be true. That was good, it _had_ to be good.

"But we can't help him get to the truth, can we?" Danny sighed, like he _wanted_ to make sure Tom knew exactly what was going on, and get him to move on. I had to admit, I wanted the same thing, I wanted to get Tom back now. I wanted him to accept what had happened, and to work towards getting himself back. But it was going to take time, it was always going to take time, Natasha had said that before. It was always going to take time because it was a complex situation.

"No, we can't. Remember what Natasha said, Tom's been in an abusive relationship for _years._ Possibly the entire time he was with her, which was _twelve years,_ he's got to come to terms with this in his own time. We can support him in his conclusions, and help him regain himself but we can't force him into thinking something, just to speed things up." doing that made it feel like we were just like his wife, which sent an awful shudder down my spine. Never would we be like his wife, _never._

"When do you think he'll come to the truth?" Danny shuddered too, like he'd had the same thought as me.

"I don't know, tomorrow? Next week? Whenever he's had enough time to think things through." I didn't have a clue when he'd come to the right conclusion, I wasn't a therapist, and I didn't know what it was like in Tom's brain. I didn't know how far into his head his wife had gotten, didn't know how much she had twisted to make her look like a saint and him like dirt under her shoe. Tom needed to sort through it all himself. He had to see for himself that things hadn't been alright, and that she had been far too cruel to him, and that he needed help. It could take him a while to get that conclusion, I didn't know.

All I knew is that we would all be there to help him, when he got to that conclusion, no matter how long it took. We would be there, and help him through, until he was back to the man we once knew. That kind, funny man, the man who we were proud to call our best friend. Who smiled, laughed, and knew how to have a good time without constantly worrying about clearing up or making one false move. The father that Buzz deserved. We would do whatever it took to get him back, no exceptions.


	66. Chapter 66

64 Dougie's POV

"Go on, ask." I whispered into the darkness.

"Huh?" Harry asked, playing innocent.

"You have another question you want to ask me, but you don't want to ask it because of what it's about." I explained, squeezing the arm that was wrapped around my waist, "So ask, get it over with before your head explodes."

"Alright, erm..." Harry shifted behind me, leaving a slight bit of distance between us. He liked being close during these types of talks, but with a bit of space, if not just for his own comfort.

"Did you, did you ever end up in denial, like Tom?" He asked eventually. I should have seen that question coming really.

"Not, not exactly. It was a different situation, wasn't it? I knew by that point that I had a serious problem, and that I needed help. There wasn't really a _denial_ phase for me." there hadn't been, I'd known that I had a problem. My problem with that problem was that I had thought I had no other choice in the matter, that there was _nothing_ I could do to change that. I had slight denial over being able to change things, but it wasn't anything like Tom. Absolutely _nothing_ like Tom.

"Oh, I guess... Sorry, I just, I just wanted to ask. Just in case." Harry whispered again, his hand moving to hold my own.

"I know, I don't mind, you know that talking helps." I knew that, and so did he. My therapist had said that talking helped, that keeping secrets, or acting like everything was fine, only caused more trouble. Talking things through helped, made sure that everyone was on the same page, or at least well informed of what was going on.

"Yeah, I still don't like asking. I feel like I'm using you as a resource, and putting pressure on you to have all the answers." Harry sighed, leaning his head against my shoulder blade, his hair tickled my skin.

"I don't mind, we all know that I'm the one who's been in a slightly similar situation before, and know the ins and outs of therapy." Of course, Tom had been there before too, but he wasn't exactly a reliable resource right now, seeing as he was the one who's entire world had been turned on its head, "You have questions, and the internet can only give so much in terms of answers, naturally you're going to ask me." I knew the lay of the law right now, and was prepared to answer questions as best as I could.

"Thank you." Harry whispered, pressing a kiss to my spine.

"No need to thank me, I'm just doing what I can." I felt so _helpless_ in this situation. I wanted to fix Tom and bring him back to his former glory, but had no clue on how to do that. So, I was doing the best I could in the situation, looking after Buzz, giving the kid a distraction, and providing answers when I could. And that was fine by me, I didn't mind doing it in the slightest. It made me feel useful, like I was actually _doing_ something, instead of sitting on my backside doing _nothing_ to help.

"You're not being useless Doug, you're doing a great job with helping in whatever way you can. None of us really know what we're doing here, but you're doing great." Harry whispered, squeezing me.

"So are you." Harry was the one who was keeping us all together, more than anybody else was. He was the one trying to keep his head together to sort out situations when they arose. It was important to have someone in charge, who could keep their head while the rest of us lost it. "You have the toughest job out of all of us, you're doing a great job." it sounded like such an empty thing to say, despite how true it was. It all just felt so _empty._ But he needed to know that he was doing a good job, that he was doing well and his work was appreciated. We couldn't carry on without _some_ reassurance that we were doing well.

"I think Tom had the toughest job. Or Natasha does." that was probably more accurate.

"That may be, but you're still in charge of us all, and trying to keep us all calm can't be easy." Not when we all panicked, or Tom was acting weirder, or Buzz wasn't doing well, like he hadn't been last week. Sometimes Harry must have felt like he wanted to _scream._ I knew I did.

"It's worth it, and it hopefully won't be for too much longer. Once Tom starts getting better, things will be easier." Harry sounded like he believed that, I needed that, needed to hear his reassurances. It made it seem possible.

"I hope so." I whispered, kissing his hand.

"It will be. Once he accepts things, and starts to move on, break out of habits, get out from under her thumb, things will get easier." Harry promised.


	67. Chapter 67

64 Dougie's POV

"Go on, ask." I whispered into the darkness.

"Huh?" Harry asked, playing innocent.

"You have another question you want to ask me, but you don't want to ask it because of what it's about." I explained, squeezing the arm that was wrapped around my waist, "So ask, get it over with before your head explodes."

"Alright, erm..." Harry shifted behind me, leaving a slight bit of distance between us. He liked being close during these types of talks, but with a bit of space, if not just for his own comfort.

"Did you, did you ever end up in denial, like Tom?" He asked eventually. I should have seen that question coming really.

"Not, not exactly. It was a different situation, wasn't it? I knew by that point that I had a serious problem, and that I needed help. There wasn't really a _denial_ phase for me." there hadn't been, I'd known that I had a problem. My problem with that problem was that I had thought I had no other choice in the matter, that there was _nothing_ I could do to change that. I had slight denial over being able to change things, but it wasn't anything like Tom. Absolutely _nothing_ like Tom.

"Oh, I guess... Sorry, I just, I just wanted to ask. Just in case." Harry whispered again, his hand moving to hold my own.

"I know, I don't mind, you know that talking helps." I knew that, and so did he. My therapist had said that talking helped, that keeping secrets, or acting like everything was fine, only caused more trouble. Talking things through helped, made sure that everyone was on the same page, or at least well informed of what was going on.

"Yeah, I still don't like asking. I feel like I'm using you as a resource, and putting pressure on you to have all the answers." Harry sighed, leaning his head against my shoulder blade, his hair tickled my skin.

"I don't mind, we all know that I'm the one who's been in a slightly similar situation before, and know the ins and outs of therapy." Of course, Tom had been there before too, but he wasn't exactly a reliable resource right now, seeing as he was the one who's entire world had been turned on its head, "You have questions, and the internet can only give so much in terms of answers, naturally you're going to ask me." I knew the lay of the law right now, and was prepared to answer questions as best as I could.

"Thank you." Harry whispered, pressing a kiss to my spine.

"No need to thank me, I'm just doing what I can." I felt so _helpless_ in this situation. I wanted to fix Tom and bring him back to his former glory, but had no clue on how to do that. So, I was doing the best I could in the situation, looking after Buzz, giving the kid a distraction, and providing answers when I could. And that was fine by me, I didn't mind doing it in the slightest. It made me feel useful, like I was actually _doing_ something, instead of sitting on my backside doing _nothing_ to help.

"You're not being useless Doug, you're doing a great job with helping in whatever way you can. None of us really know what we're doing here, but you're doing great." Harry whispered, squeezing me.

"So are you." Harry was the one who was keeping us all together, more than anybody else was. He was the one trying to keep his head together to sort out situations when they arose. It was important to have someone in charge, who could keep their head while the rest of us lost it. "You have the toughest job out of all of us, you're doing a great job." it sounded like such an empty thing to say, despite how true it was. It all just felt so _empty._ But he needed to know that he was doing a good job, that he was doing well and his work was appreciated. We couldn't carry on without _some_ reassurance that we were doing well.

"I think Tom had the toughest job. Or Natasha does." that was probably more accurate.

"That may be, but you're still in charge of us all, and trying to keep us all calm can't be easy." Not when we all panicked, or Tom was acting weirder, or Buzz wasn't doing well, like he hadn't been last week. Sometimes Harry must have felt like he wanted to _scream._ I knew I did.

"It's worth it, and it hopefully won't be for too much longer. Once Tom starts getting better, things will be easier." Harry sounded like he believed that, I needed that, needed to hear his reassurances. It made it seem possible.

"I hope so." I whispered, kissing his hand.

"It will be. Once he accepts things, and starts to move on, break out of habits, get out from under her thumb, things will get easier." Harry promised.


	68. Chapter 68

65 Tom's POV

Nothing made sense. Had I been abused? Was it all true? In some ways it did, but in others it didn't feel right at _all._ I mean, my wife loved me, she really did love me, she stayed with me for years, agreed to marry me and everything. She _loved_ me. And she _never_ laid a bad finger on Buzz.

But she never let me _play_ with Buzz, not in private, and even in public I was generally only allowed to carry him. She always undermined my ability to do anything, made me stop going to therapy once I'd gotten control of myself, and stopped me from doing things I enjoyed. Was that abuse though? Or was that just making me a better person? Did I even need to _be_ a better person? Oh I didn't know, I didn't know! Nothing made sense, some of the things she did felt so necessary, while others didn't seem right.

It was true we weren't like other couples, but was it abuse? It couldn't be... we didn't... we had started out like other couples. Affectionate and loving, all that fun stuff. But after a while she started doing things, saying things, poking holes in what I was doing, what I was wearing, how I was acting. Was that when it started, if this was what Natasha said it was?

Looking around the house, I was hit with so many memories of the things she'd said to me over the years.

 ** _"Honestly Tom, why are you still collecting these things? They're meant for children, you're twenty-five!"_**

 ** _"You're seriously wearing a Back To The Future t-shirt again? Don't you have any variety in here, or anything that actually looks smart and presentable?"_**

 ** _"I've barely seen you all week! You're spending too much time with the band, you're never home anymore!"_**

 ** _"STOP, just stop. Do you really think that this is a good enough job? We have a_** **baby** ** _Tom! You can't just do the bare minimum anymore, you have to actually get things clean! Do you want Buzz to get ill? Do you want him to get ill and it be your fault, because it will be! Do it again, and properly this time!"_**

None of it was very kind, but it wasn't _cruel_ as such, she was just trying... she wanted to be proud of me, she wanted to give our son a good father. That was all, was that so wrong? Didn't everyone want to be proud of their partner, to give their children parents who could care for their child properly? Didn't they want to be in a relationship with someone they could love and not have to worry about things somehow going wrong?

Watching Harry and Dougie highlighted the differences in our relationships though. Watching them work together, sharing duties, laughing and smiling. Harry kissing Dougie on the cheek as he walked past to make him blush, Dougie wearing Harry's clothes without complaint. Harry's arm around Dougie's knee as they sat on the sofa together, Dougie's head on Harry's shoulder. They teased each other, but without any hint of malice, or any ill-feeling against the other. They held each other as they slept, held hands as they walked together, touched each other for no reason other than they could. They were happy together, _so_ happy together, perfect for each other in fact. Always had been, anybody could see that from space.

My wife and I hadn't been like that in years, not since she had decided I was useless at everything. She never touched me like that, or spoke to me gently, or stole my clothes to wear them. She didn't share jobs with me, or let me hold her in sleep, or tease me without some sort of message in it. She never did any of that.

And all relationships had some _form_ of that. All of them. Even the not-so-great ones had some _form_ of all of those elements in there, even if the couple fought a lot. There was still love. There was still affection. One didn't stop the other from doing, saying, dressing, acting _something,_ because they didn't like it. They didn't stop them from looking after their child. They didn't... they didn't do the things my wife did.

Natasha had been right. It wasn't just how we worked. It was... my wife had abused me.


	69. Chapter 69

66 Danny's POV

Tom was deep in thought for days, and seemed to be watching us all too while he thought, like he was trying to come up with an answer to everything. I couldn't blame him for it really, but it did feel a bit odd, to be watched so closely.

But then he suddenly stopped, two days after we had watched him talk to a sleeping Buzz. I didn't see him for half the morning, then suddenly found him in the laundry room, leaning on the counter, head dropped in shame, his shoulders shaking.

"Tom? Are you alright?" I asked, hesitating before walking into the room.

"Fine, just f-fine." Tom jumped to start sorting out the clothes, keeping his back to me.

"You don't sound fine." His voice had been shaking, something wasn't right here... had he figured out the truth? Oh God, he had, hadn't he? And this was his reaction to it... oh bugger, here we go.

"I am, I am. Just, just... I was considering which wash load to put this in." Tom's voice continued to shake, and he still refused to turn round, even as he lifted the white t-shirt up so I could see. He didn't even sound like he believed what he was saying, his shoulders hitching like he was bracing himself.

He then leaped feet when I touched his shoulder, allowed me to see a flash of his face. Oh God, he was _crying._ Tom was crying. He had realised, he had definitely realised. No way he hadn't. What did I do? What did I do now?! He was crying, had realised what his wife had done to him, what did I do to help?!

"Do, do you need to talk about it?" I asked, maybe we could talk about it. We could talk and that could help. Maybe that could do something for him. What I didn't know, but maybe it could do _something_ for him.

"N-No. I, I'm fine. I'm fine." Tom pulled away, "Sorry." He said that too often, far too often. And I had a feeling he'd be saying it a _lot_ more for a while.

"Nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all." There was _nothing_ he needed to apologise for, it was ridiculous to think that he did.

"I, I'm being stupid. I'll, I'll be fine in a minute." Tom continued piling clothes in the washing machine, almost in a desperate way, like he badly wanted to prove that he was capable.

"Hey, hey, you're not being stupid, or anything of the sort. You're allowed to be upset, especially about this." could I be explicit with this, say it out loud? Or should I have been quiet, or spoke around the subject?

"I, it's stupid. It's stupid. I'll be fine in a minute, I swear I will be." Tom wiped away the tears, continuing his task.

"It's really not stupid Tom, it's perfectly okay to be upset." I tried to say, but Tom never believe me. And whenever one of us caught him crying again, or stressing out, or _anything_ like that, he just apologised and refused to listen to sense. He refused to hear us when we said that it was okay to be upset, to be scared of what happened.

He was in such a state about it all, when he wasn't crying, he was panicked, or stressed, or acting like everything was fine. He was trying so _hard_ to cling to what he knew, refusing all chances to talk about it, or even acknowledge that he'd realised something _huge_ about his relationship.

Watching him like that hurt, so much. I _hated_ seeing him look so upset about it all, to look so _lost._ Especially when looking at photos of him and his wife. Photos from their wedding day, days out with Buzz, the multiple photos of her and Buzz, rarely with Tom. Whenever he looked at those, he always looked like he had no idea on what to think about it all, like he was revaluating every single detail of their relationship. Like he didn't have a _clue_ on what to think of anything anymore.


	70. Chapter 70

**Guys, did anybody see Tom retweet that video review of The Creakers, from someone called Bekka Addams? That was ME! AHHHHH!**

67 Tom's POV

I'd been happy, we had been happy. We had... I had been happy, hadn't I? I had loved her, I knew that. But had I been happy? I couldn't... if I hadn't been, why did I stay? Why didn't I _notice_ what was going on? How didn't I understand what was happening to me? I should have noticed; how couldn't I have _realised_ that I was being _abused?_ I was so stupid, so damn _stupid._ I didn't even notice that my wife had been abusing me all this time.

I had let her abuse me, push me around, treat me like dirt. I had let her do all those things, and never fought back once. Would I have let her do the same to Buzz? If she had been cruel to him, would I have let her beat him down too? Would I have _noticed_ that either? Probably not. God I was so _stupid._ Who the hell let themselves be abused for so long? Who _married_ their abuser? Who didn't even notice it until it was forcefully pointed out to them?

But we'd been happy, we had been happy. I'd been... I'd loved her. I still... I still _loved_ her. And she abused me. She abused me, and I loved her. Who did that? Who fell in love with an abuser and _married_ them? I didn't... I didn't understand. It didn't make sense. I shouldn't have... why didn't I notice? Why didn't I notice and do something about it? Why did I let her say those things to me? Why did I let her get away with so much? Why did I love her, trust her, want to stay with her? It didn't... I didn't understand, I didn't _understand._

Nothing made sense anymore, I doubted every single second of our relationship. Was any of it real for her? Had she loved me at all? If not, why did she stay? Why did she abuse me so much? Did she even _know_ she had been abusing me like that? She must have, but _why_ did she do it? What was it about me that made her want to do something like that to me? What made her want to hurt me like this?

I'd tried to be a good husband, I really did. I had written her songs, given her gifts for no reason other than wanting to spoil her. I had kissed and cuddled her whenever I could, told her she was beautiful, I thought I made sure she knew she was loved. Sure I missed dates sometimes, or had to cancel time together, and wasn't home that much, but that was because of the band. She knew that going in, had _always_ known that that was how things were going to be. So that couldn't be the cause.

Even when she was angry about that, I tried to make it up to her for it. I _always_ tried to make it up to her, for everything I failed to do. But that also didn't explain why she treated me so badly. It didn't explain why she forced me into constant cleaning, refused to let me near our son, put me down for everything I did. It didn't explain that. _Nothing_ explained that.

"It wasn't your fault Tom, none of it was. She was just... she was just a bad person." Danny tried to tell me, his hand on my knee as he said it. I hadn't even talked to him about what I was thinking, why was he saying that?!

"I clearly did something, as she only targeted _me._ " I hissed, not caring about being rude to him, about _any_ of that. Everybody was telling me, over and over again, that it wasn't my fault. That I had done nothing wrong in all of this, but clearly I _had._ There had to be an explanation for everything that had happened.

My wife only abused _me,_ she was not mean, or cruel, or even _rude_ to anybody but _me._ She never laid a finger on our son, or anybody else we knew. She was so nice to everyone around us, but with me, she was nasty, and cruel, and manipulative. There was something wrong with me to make that happen. I had clearly done something to incur her wrath, to make her hate me so much. No amount of platitudes from my band mates would change that.

I had done _something,_ to make her act like that. I had made her hate me, had made her change from that sweet person she had always been, and into the abuser she had turned into with me. There was something wrong with me, and I needed to know what it was. I needed to know, so this never happened again, so I never made someone so angry at me that they decided that they wanted to abuse me and change me into someone they could stand.


	71. Chapter 71

68 Danny's POV

Tom seemed to just... _stop,_ or at least slow _right down_ once he'd finished thinking. I mean, he just... he was so robotic. Or not robotic at such, but he wasn't okay. Like he was last week, but even more so away with the fairies. He wasn't paying attention to anything, lost completely inside his own mind, working everything on autopilot. It took a huge amount of noise, or one of us directly touching him, before he actually _responded_ to us.

Even when he did respond, it was only to say that he was getting things done, that he was absolutely fine. But it was clear he wasn't. He was stressed. And scared, and clearly didn't know what to think of anything. My heart broke for him, actually _shattered_ for him. I couldn't... it must have been awful, to realise all this, and to not know what to do with the information. Tom's whole world had been flipped upside down, I couldn't imagine how that felt for him.

"Hey, Buzz wants to have a jam, fancy joining in?" I suggested, hearing Buzz call for 'Drums! Sticks! Harry!' from the front room. Tom was, again, cleaning the kitchen, despite the fact that it was spotless.

Tom jumped in response, stopping his frantic scrubbing of the kitchen surface, whirling round to face me.

"N-No, no, it's fine. I-I'm... I need to get on with, with cleaning." Tom spun round again, getting back to work.

"Tom, the kitchen's scrubbed, come and have some fun." I tried to encourage him, unsure whether to touch him or not. He was starting to get stressed again, and I wanted to hug him, to calm him down, but would that make him worse? Would that cause him to freak out? It had before, simply touching him, or being too nice, had caused tears. I didn't know how this would play out.

"I need to get on, there's, there's things to do." Tom shook his head, "I need, I need to prove myself." He muttered, that... that didn't make sense.

"You don't need to prove anything, you're doing great," if this was about him not wanting to show us 'weakness' or something, then he needn't have worried, he was doing _so_ well, so damn well. Considering everything, if I had been him, I would have been rocking in a corner by now. The fact that he was still standing was a good sign in my books, even if he was a bit robotic by most standards.

"No, it's... just, please, let me get on, I need... I need to get on." Tom's scrubbing got faster, more frantic.

"Hey, it's okay, no need to get stressed," I put a hand on his shoulder.

"No it's not! It's not okay!" Tom whirled around again, his face was screwed up with so much _pain,_ "I-It's not okay, it's not. it's, it's all wrong." His bottom lip started quivering, "I, I'm not okay." He whispered, before suddenly bursting into tears.

"Whoa, whoa Tom, what's wrong? What's happened?" I rushed to grab hold of him before he fell over, feeling his entire body shaking.

I eased us to the floor, letting Tom sob into my chest, his cries soon becoming hysterical. He was so upset, what the _hell_ had happened? What brought this on? Was it me?

"I'm sorry Tom, I'm sorry if I upset you, I didn't mean to. I was just suggesting a break from doing some jobs. I didn't mean to hurt you." I honestly hadn't, I'd just, I'd just wanted to get him to have some fun. To take his mind off everything that was going on right now. I hadn't meant to make him _cry._

But Tom just sobbed, he didn't reply at all. He just cried, and cried, and _cried._ Whole body shaking, hands clutching at me like he was desperate for comfort, like he'd been bottling everything up for a long time. How long had he wanted to do this? To cry and let it all out? He'd been so stoic for days, keeping it all in, carrying on as best as he could. Was this the result of holding it all in for so long? It must have been. And I had no idea on how to help him through it.


	72. Chapter 72

69 Harry's POV

"Dada?" Buzz asked us again, clutching at his little ukulele with wide, teary eyes. He'd been asking for Tom for the last half hour, and while it was unlikely Danny was going to get Tom to come in a play, we had to at least _try._ I couldn't deny this little boy anything, he'd gone through enough as it was, and he wanted his dad.

His dad, who at the moment was a bit AWOL, despite the fact that he was still in the house. The realisation that he had abused had hit him hard, something I couldn't blame him for. But at the same time, it hurt to see him look so lost and scared, to deny Buzz time with his dad, because his dad currently couldn't do anything right now. Or at least, he wasn't with it enough to play with his son.

"Danny's just got to get him kiddo, he'll be here soon." I really hoped I wasn't lying, really, _really_ hoped I wasn't lying.

That's when Tom's shouts rang through the house, before the sound of a man bursting into tears echoed through. Shit. That wasn't good.

"Dada?" Buzz called again, heading off in the direction of the cries. But he couldn't see this, he couldn't see his dad crying, and having whatever reaction he was having! He'd seen and heard enough as it was. And who knew how much he understood of what was going on? He was a baby, but he wasn't stupid, or incapable of understanding at the very least that his dad wasn't okay.

"Stay here with Buzz, I'll go see what's going on." I picked Buzz up, placing him in Dougie's arms, racing out to the kitchen.

What I found was Tom on the floor, curled in Danny's arms, sobbing into his chest. Danny was holding onto him, trying desperately to calm him, but not doing anything to help, instead looking more and more distressed by the second.

"I didn't, I didn't mean to. I was just trying to help, I'm sorry." Danny was saying, rubbing Tom's back, his other hand cradling Tom's head.

"What happened?" I bent down, trying to help comfort our crying friend, but not getting very far myself. Tom was crying so hard, and looked _so_ upset, as upset as he had been when he'd packed Buzz up, expecting him to be taken away.

"I, I don't know. We were just talking, and he started crying." Danny answered, looking at me for guidance, like I knew what I was doing. But I didn't know! I didn't know what was going on anymore than he did! I didn't have a clue on what to do! I'd never dealt with this before!

Did we let him cry it out? Or try to get him to calm down and talk about it? I didn't know!

"Alright, alright," what did we do? What did we do?! "Tom, hey, what's up? What's happened?" I tried asking, trying my best to sound comforting and open to whatever Tom was experiencing, but Tom didn't reply. He just continued to sob, face crumpled with misery, entire body shaking, hands refusing to let go of Danny's t-shirt.

And he sobbed for _so_ long, longer than I thought anybody could. He cried and cried until he cried himself out, literally _passed out_ from crying so much. Even unconscious, he looked broken.

Carefully, I picked him up, carrying him upstairs to his room and tucking him into a bed that didn't look at all slept in, hoping he could at the least get some rest up here. As for what we were going to do, I had no idea. What had even _caused_ that? Delayed reaction to the revelation? A build up of emotions from the last few weeks? Something else entirely? Who knew? Who knew and who knew what to do about it now? Not even Dougie had any ideas, and he was the one who had been in a slightly similar boat a few years ago!

"We need to phone Natasha." It was the only answer I had, maybe she could help. She was a psychiatrist after all, one who knew what she was doing, and knew Tom well at this point. It annoyed me that we didn't know what to do, but we weren't trained in psychology, we knew Tom as a person, we didn't know how his brain processed things like this, especially after everything his wife had said to him.


	73. Chapter 73

70 Dougie's POV

"Buzz, shhh, shhh, it's okay, it's alright." I tried desperately to calm the baby down, but he would not stop _crying._ Crying and reaching out the door, towards his dad, his dad who sounded like he was crying in _agony_ in the other room. The tiny boy was struggling in my arms, desperately wanting to run to his dad, but I couldn't let him. Not like this, not right now.

He couldn't see Tom in distress, he couldn't be witness to whatever Tom was doing in the kitchen. He wasn't... Buzz was only a _baby,_ he was only eighteen months old, he'd seen enough of his dad being unwell, had heard his mother beating him down constantly, had been there for all of Tom's therapy sessions. He couldn't witness Tom crying too, he couldn't.

He wouldn't understand, and I didn't want him to be confused, or scared by it. None of us wanted him to witness it at all. But how could we keep on keeping them apart? How could we stop Buzz from seeing his dad so damn often? He needed Tom, but Tom wasn't capable of looking after his son right now. He wasn't well, he needed to get better, or at least to get his head on straighter than it was right now, before he could possibly even start to look after Buzz.

But damn it I wanted this tiny, innocent child to stop crying! I wanted him to stop crying, and for me to not be the one who always had to hold him back like this! I didn't want to separate father and son, I didn't want to be the bad guy in this! I didn't want to have to always be calming Buzz down while his father cried in the other room, I couldn't... I couldn't _handle_ that kind of pressure. I wasn't, I couldn't... it was just so _hard,_ and I wasn't able to do it, not for much longer, not like this, not so often.

It took over an hour for Tom to calm down, but Buzz didn't calm, not until he saw his dad again. I let him run over to him and cling on with all of his toddler strength, while Tom held back loosely, like he still wasn't in the room. He looked like he was in shock still, not even twitching at the constant sound of Buzz saying 'Dada' over and over, tiny baby fists clinging to his shirt and hair.

It even took us prompting him to get him to take Buzz upstairs for his bath before bedtime. Tom was so out of it, in so much _shock,_ he was barely responding anymore. And I didn't understand... I mean I did _understand,_ he was coming to terms with what his wife did to him, but I mean, I didn't understand how to help, how to snap him out, how to get him to start to move on. I just wanted him to move on, to be _happy_ again. This wasn't right. None of this was right.

How did it get to this? How did we get _here?_ How did... why did Tom's wife have to do this? Why couldn't she have been kind and loving? Why couldn't she have been a normal person, and one who didn't leave? Why didn't we pick up that something was wrong from the start? Why didn't we pay attention? _Why did nobody notice anything?_ We should have noticed, _we should have noticed._

I couldn't believe we didn't notice.

"We can't, we can't blame ourselves Dougie, she was good, she covered her tracks well. A-And, I mean, Tom wasn't... there weren't any physical marks, we couldn't have known." Harry was saying, stroking my back that night.

"We should have known." We should have, we really, really should have.

"I know, but how could we? We didn't... there was nothing to suspect." Harry tried to sound like he believed that, it didn't work.

"We could have paid attention! It was... we should have _seen_ that Tom wasn't okay! We should have seen that he didn't play with his own son, that, that he was quieter than usual! We should have _noticed_ that there's barely any photos of him around the house, but there's hundreds of her and Buzz! But we didn't! We didn't notice a thing! And now Tom's suffering by himself and he is _barely_ with us anymore and won't stop crying! And Buzz won't stop crying and I can't! I just can't anymore! There's so much, there's so much _pain_ and I can't deal with it anymore!" the words came bursting out, unable to stop coming. And with the words, came tears.

"We should have noticed Harry, we should have noticed!" I sobbed into my husband's chest, wishing we could go back in time and do _something_ to stop all this happening.


	74. Chapter 74

71 Tom's POV

Stupid, stupid having a breakdown in _public._ How could I be so bloody _stupid?_ Nobody should have seen that, nobody should have seen me doing _that,_ shouldn't have put them through that. Shouldn't have made anybody see that. I probably just made them very, very angry with me. Angry, and annoyed. Made them think that I was weak and pathetic, because I was pathetic. Crying over a few bad words and the knowledge that I caused all this mess. I already _knew_ that, knew that I was useless and a mess of a human being. I shouldn't have been shocked, shouldn't have been crying like some sort of _child_ over it all.

That's why I was here now, at Natasha's office, having been driven straight here the morning after my _stupid_ breakdown. I hadn't been allowed to drive myself, of course I hasn't. Who let the pathetic person who couldn't keep their emotions in _drive?_ Buzz wasn't even allowed in my session with me today, he had to wait outside with Danny, Harry and Dougie. Probably so I didn't disturb him more, God knows I was screwing him up enough by crying in front of him constantly.

He hadn't wanted to let me go last night, had clung on and refused to let me leave his room. He clung to me in his sleep all night. How he let me go this morning I didn't know, and I didn't want to even _think_ about it.

"So how have you been feeling over the last week?" Natasha asked, like any other session.

Like I hated myself, because I did _despise_ myself. Like I couldn't control any of my emotions, like the worst father and housemate in the world. Like a pathetic, weak, _useless_ man, just like my wife always told me I was.

"Fine." I answered instead, so she didn't have to hear it too. It wasn't like she didn't _know_ already, I must have been screaming it by now. A neon sign above my head, flashing my worst personality traits and reasons to hate me for everyone to see. Not that I knew what exactly was the problem. I'd change it if I could, would change _anything_ I needed to, just to make all this go away and go back to normal. So I could look after my son properly, stop scaring him, stop annoying everyone else, making them hate me.

"Tom, we both know that that isn't true. You haven't had a good week at all." Natasha sighed, even she was annoyed with me, and we had been in session for _five minutes._ It was shocking really that Danny, Harry and Dougie hadn't gone down the same route as my wife to keep me in line and out of the way. Who cared if it was classed as _abuse_ when it worked and kept the peace in some way?

I just wanted peace, and some sort of happiness, or at least the feeling that I was accomplishing _something._

"Would you like to talk about what happened yesterday?" Natasha asked gently. Always so gentle, always so _damn_ gentle with me, like I was made of glass. She could have been tougher with me if she wanted, it wasn't like I cared.

"It was a mistake, it won't happen again." not in public at least, I'd hold it in, keeping everything locked up until I was alone. I was alone from eight in the evening, after Buzz went to bed, anyway, I could let it all out then. I'd let it all out then, when I was alone. Didn't matter if I cried myself to sleep some nights, as long as _nobody else knew_ and didn't get put out because of my antics.

"Why would you say it was a mistake?" Natasha had to know. Normal people didn't have breakdowns just because someone asked them to join in a game with their son. And they certainly did cling to that person as they hysterically cried over the term _abuse._

"Normal people don't have breakdowns in front of their house mates and scare their son over something they already knew." I desperately wanted to curl into a ball on the sofa, but couldn't. I couldn't put my feet up on the cushions and dirty them, other people had to sit on this furniture. Natasha wouldn't be happy with me for that, and I needed Natasha on my side. Or at least, I needed her to still think that I could look after Buzz... not that I was, but she had to keep on thinking that he could stay with me.

"Like I said, it won't happen again." I wasn't going to scare my son more, I wasn't going to freak him out and be a bad parent. He wasn't going to see, or hear, his dad cry again.

"Tom, it's okay to cry, and to be upset over this, it's nothing to be ashamed of." Natasha sighed again, looking at me with _pity._ I didn't need _pity,_ I needed the chance to prove that I could do what I set out to do, which was become a better father, and figure out what the hell was wrong with me.

"Sure, I should be proud of the fact that I clung onto Danny like a child and ruined everyone's good mood. It was _great_ work." That was sarcasm, I shouldn't have used sarcasm! I needed her to like me, I needed her to be on my side! "Sorry, sorry, I-I didn't mean to say that." I hastened to apologies.

"It's alright, I understand. You're getting defensive, it's a natural reaction." Natasha shrugged it off, "Why don't you tell me what triggered off this breakdown instead?"

"I don't know." I just broke down, Danny asked me one too many questions, and for some reason that made my resolve snap like a twig, opening the floodgates.

"Oh, I'm sure you do, why don't we talk through it, see if we can figure it out together?" Natasha asked, making me go through everything Danny said to me yesterday, and how I felt about each thing.

"When he asked you to drop what you were doing and join in, how did that feel?" she started, at least she was giving me a place to start, otherwise I didn't have a _clue_ on what to say.

"I... I don't know." I wasn't sure, I couldn't remember how it had felt, just remembered the tears flowing, the panic and the exhaustion afterwards.

"You do Tom, just think back to yesterday. You were cleaning the kitchen worktops, and Danny was asking you to stop what you were doing, and come do something else, something you weren't usually allowed to do, how did that make you feel? What did you think in that moment?" Natasha prodded, yet it didn't feel like she was demanding me to say anything. She was just asking, she was always just asking, even when she wanted an answer, she didn't force it, only encouraged me to tell her.

"I, I thought that I needed to finish the cleaning. We, we shouldn't have a dirty house, it wouldn't... it could make Buzz ill." I had always cleaned the house over, it was my job, had always been my job.

"When was the last time you had cleaned the worktops?" Natasha carried on.

"That morning, after breakfast." I cleaned them off after every meal, or whenever something had been on them. Just like I hovered every day too, and put away all the toys after they had been used, did the washing, and ironed the clothes. It all had to be done every day.

"Okay, couldn't it have waited, until after Buzz finished his game with you?" Natasha made me shake my head, "Why?"

"It wasn't... because... I, I don't know." I didn't know, I didn't know! I just... I was just doing what my wife had instilled in me! It was what was needed, I was doing what I knew I was just doing what I knew.

"Alright, it's okay, it's okay to not know." Natasha got up, sitting next to me, "But Tom, remember what I told you a few weeks ago, about spending time with Buzz? It's important to spend time with him too, and not distancing yourself from him, even when what you're doing is good for him."

"I, I put him to bed though, a-and get him ready in the morning. We, I bathe him and read him a story every night." I was, I was spending time with him, I wasn't abandoning him. I really, really wasn't abandoning him.

"I know you are, and I'm very proud of you for doing it so well every day, but what I'm talking about is spending time with him during the day. Playing games, drawing, helping him learn, perhaps even taking him out on a trip when you feel ready to. It's important to spend time with Buzz during the day, too." Natasha explained, "It helps you bond together, as father and son, and gives you a break from work. You deserve a break Tom, you don't have to work all day long, you can relax with your son on occasion too."

"But, but I have to do -" I tried to protest.

"Not all the time, you don't have to constantly be working yourself to the bone, you can spend time with Buzz, and not have everything fall to pieces. Remember when you and Buzz spent time together a few weeks ago, where you played football? Nothing fell down then, did it? And, Buzz _loved_ it, and you enjoyed yourself too. You can still do that, even with everything else going on." Natasha smiled softly.

"But what about -" I tried again.

"The housework will still be there later on, and you can do it later on, if you wish. I'm just saying, make time in your week for you to have a break, to be with your son. It'll do you both the world of good, and nothing bad will come of it." Natasha sensed my protest again, "Just once a week, try it. Once a week, put away the cleaning equipment, and do something with Buzz. Jam together, draw with him, play football, watch a film, _anything_ like that would be a great start, I promise."


	75. Chapter 75

72 Danny's POV

I was bouncing Buzz on my hip for most of Tom's therapy session, hoping that he'd remain calm and not start crying, calling out for his dad. The poor boy wanted him so much, being separated from him, especially after the last couple of weeks, was not doing him any good whatsoever.

"We should ask Natasha at the end of the session, about giving them more time together." We had to do something, at least get some advice. We were all in agreement that Buzz needed Tom, more than anything else, and that meant that he needed to actually spend time with him. But at the same time, we couldn't _force_ them together, not when Tom was going through such a horrible time. He needed space, to figure things out, and to heal.

But he also needed his son. And his son needed him. We could only do so much, and we certainly couldn't replace Tom. At least Tom was still feeding Buzz, and putting him to bed, things like that. So there was some interaction. On the whole though, Buzz needed to see that his dad was alright, and Tom needed to be distracted. Or have a few happy moments, to see that life wasn't just being abused and the after effects of it.

"May be an idea, though what she'll say about it is another matter." Harry sighed, running a hand over Buzz's hair, making it stick up on ends. Dougie flattened it afterwards.

"Hopefully something that will at least encourage Tom to spend time with Buzz, without pushing too much responsibility onto him." I really wanted him to reassure Buzz, and comfort him so the baby knew everything was going to be okay. But at the same time, I really didn't want to screw him up more, or give him some sort of extra problem to think about, when he needed to recover.

If he was having a hard time keeping all his emotions in, and was breaking down just because I asked him to join in with a game, then how would he react to Buzz? It wasn't like Buzz understood what was going on, or how to treat Tom right now, he was only a baby, and he would do baby things, as he should have. It was such a hard situation to balance - give the baby what he desperately needed, or give Tom space to heal, like _he_ desperately needed?

"At the least, Natasha should be able to give him some support. Maybe get him to release some of this build up emotion, or talk through whatever he needs." Harry sighed again, "She'll help somehow." The words 'she has to' were unsaid, but we all heard them.

Luckily for us, Buzz was reasonably well behaved for Tom's therapy, only starting to fuss at the end, asking for Tom and reaching for the door. I managed to keep him from creating too much of a fuss, just about, and handed him over to Tom when the door opened. Tom accepted him, at least looking like he was slightly more in the room than he had been this morning.

"Dada!" Buzz clung on happily, burying his head in Tom's shoulder, tiny fists holding onto his shirt.

"I think he'll be getting hungry soon, why don't you go down to the canteen and get him something to eat?" Natasha nudged Tom gently, smiling at the baby. Not that he noticed, too busy snuggled up with Tom, like he was absolutely desperate for his attention. I could understand why, we all could really. He needed his dad, more than anyone. To not have him must have been incredibly scary to a young boy.

"I, er, yeah. I'll, I'll go feed him." Tom left, which was slightly surprising, considering. We usually didn't let Tom out of our sight, and on a day like today, that was doubly so. Of course, space was important, but at the same time, we had to keep an eye on him, just in case. In case of what, we didn't know, but it was still a precaution we had to take.

"He won't go far, just down to the canteen, don't worry about him." Natasha must have noticed our worry, "Now, I think we need to have a quick talk." She smiled kindly, ushering us inside.


	76. Chapter 76

73 Harry's POV

"I understand that things have been tough, for all of you, these past few weeks." Natasha started, letting us sit on the sofa for our talk. It was weird, sitting on this sofa, knowing that just minutes before Tom had been sat on the same thing, possibly revealing more of what his wife did to him, or anything to do with the situation. It felt like I shouldn't be sat here, that I didn't need to sit here. Nothing had happened to me, I had no problems, at least none as huge as Tom's, or any of Natasha's other patients.

"Yeah, it's, it's not been easy." I admitted, "The main problem is Buzz. Not that Buzz is a burden, or anything like that. We love him dearly, and love spending time with him. it's just... It's hard, when Tom's not feeling well." I didn't know how to explain it, but I had to get it out somehow. We needed Natasha more than anything right now, so she needed to know what I was saying.

"Can you give an example?" Natasha asked, example, yes, that would be useful, yes...

"Yesterday." Dougie spoke up for the first time in a while, I could tell he was unnerved to be back on the therapist sofa again, if not just by the way he was inching towards me. I took hold of his hand, squeezing gently, letting him know that I was there.

"Yeah, yesterday. It was... well, you know what happened with Tom," we had explained that over the phone, "But Buzz, he knew what was going on. Or at least heard Tom crying, and he wanted to go over to him, but we couldn't let him. He's seen enough of his dad in distress, we can't give him more."

"He gets really scared though, when they're apart, and starts getting really upset, and we can't calm him down. There's only one of us with him when Tom's not well, so it's really hard to deal with." Danny added in.

"And then he clings to Tom afterwards, but Tom isn't reacting to him much because he's not feeling that good." Dougie continued, fiddling with a chunk of hair.

"Right, and what about the rest of the time, when Tom's reasonably alright? Do they spend time together then, or are staying apart?" Natasha asked, a calculating look on her face.

"They don't spend much time together. Tom... he's stuck in his routine, and can't stop himself from cleaning. He's... sort of in a bubble, I guess you could say. He's in a bubble, and he doesn't hear much of what's going on around him, or anything really." I didn't like admitting it, I felt like it made it sound like Tom was an inattentive father. He wasn't, really, he wasn't. He just... He just had been forced into this way of thinking, and he wasn't really able to break that.

"Tom does feed him though, and does the whole night time routine himself!" Danny pointed out, like he was on the same wavelength as me.

"And he stays for a while in Buzz's room after he goes to sleep." Dougie joined in, sitting up straighter as he said it.

"I see. So he's still obsessively cleaning, and seems to be in his own little world in regards to what Buzz is doing for most of the day, but is doing some fatherly things. But you're all worried about the effects of Buzz hearing Tom cry so often, and not being able to be with him." Natasha summarised, we nodded, "Okay... sounds like a bit of a problem, one I'm not sure how to fix. Obviously, you can't subject a child to a distressed parent on a regular basis, but you also can't keep them apart for long spaces of time..." she seemed to think for a few moments.

"Currently, my only suggestion is that you try and get them to spend time together during the day, to get Tom away from his routines, even if it's just for a few minutes, and get them together. Or possibly somehow getting Buzz to join in with what Tom's doing. It'll do Buzz a lot of good to see his dad in a more stable mood, and Tom some good to be away from the house and all its issues." Natasha suggested.

"But how are we supposed to do that? Tom won't let us stop him, and when we try, yesterday happens!" how we were supposed to do any of that when Tom wouldn't let us?! It would only cause more trouble if we tried!

"I'd suggest not springing it suddenly on him. Instead, try discussing a play activity for later on in the day, or in the week. Give him some sort of time and an activity, so he knows what he's doing and when. It'll give him time to process what you're asking of him, and let him adjust. If he says no, well... gently nudge him towards saying yes, or come up with an activity he has to be a part of, or at least would traditionally be a part of, as the father of the child." Natasha explained, I didn't know, it sounded a bit risky.

"He could very well still say no, and if he does, I will think of something else for you to try. But for now, just try it out. There's no harm in trying, and it's a good start to him getting back his freedom again." Natasha at least sounded sympathetic.

But could we do it? I didn't think we could. Tom was stubborn, and so set in his daily tasks, he refused to let them go. Just yesterday, trying to get him away from it all had freaked him out, what would he do this time when we tried again?


	77. Chapter 77

74 Dougie's POV

How the hell were we going to convince Tom to join us in some sort of game with Buzz? Even if we asked well in advance, and gave him exact ideas as to what we'd be doing, how the hell did we get him to agree?! Tom wasn't someone who would agree to something to that! He was so stuck in his ways, so fixated on everything his wife had told him, how could we possibly get him to do anything else?

We had had mixed success in the past, but not since he had been told that he had been abused. He'd been so closed off since the revelation, I doubted he was going to agree to being around us again, even if it was just for an hour.

But, we had to try, according to Natasha. It wouldn't hurt to try. But what did she know? She didn't know what it was like to hold onto a screaming baby, who wanted and needed their father, but couldn't have him as he was crying hysterically in the other room. She wasn't the one who had to deal with that. She wasn't there to witness that. And she certainly wasn't the one trying to calm down the baby, completely helpless to actually calm down anyone.

Natasha was just the therapist, she saw Tom once a week and talked to him, then gave us instructions, like we were her co-therapists. We weren't therapists though, we were Tom's friends, there was only so much we could do, and there was so much we could screw up. By saying the wrong words, or pushing too hard, or anything like that, we could screw up and make things so much worse.

I didn't like it, not one bit. It wasn't like this with me, not when I was in therapy. I talked to my therapist alone, we worked through things together, or in a group. We discussed feelings, previous experiences, my motivations for my addictions, coping mechanisms. Tom, Danny and Harry weren't involved. At least, they weren't until I was ready for them to be. Of course, I spoke to Harry, and my therapist gave him some advice on how to help me, but he didn't get everyone involved.

"The situation was different Dougie, you hadn't been abused." Harry sighed after I explained my feelings that evening, as we got ready for bed.

"No, instead I was so depressed I wanted to die and felt totally alone and abandoned in the world. Hardly the same thing at all." I didn't mean to snap, really, I didn't. But damn it I think I knew a little about feeling scared and alone! I had been there, vividly been there! How was this different? I didn't understand how this was different!

"But you didn't have a baby to look after, and hadn't lost a relationship, one you thought was solid and normal." Harry wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

"I guess." I'd always relied on Harry, had always had him. Even in my darkest times, I'd known that he was there, even when I hadn't felt loved, thanks to my own problems. Harry had always been there, showing me love, taking care of me, and trying to encourage me to do things I loved.

"Tom doesn't have that luxury; his wife has turned out to be the cause of his problems. His relationship has been turned on his head, what he thought was love, was abuse. Of course he's scared and alone, but it's more than that. He's got to re-evaluate everything in his life, to learn to accept what has happened, and to try and regain himself again. And most of all, he needs to know that he is loved and cared for, that he still has us on his side, and he can't do that unless we try to get him out of his shell, away from his fixed routines. We're here to help where Natasha can't. And she can't help him feel love, unless we step in and show him that love." Harry kissed my shoulder, "I know it doesn't seem fair, to give us hard jobs that could cause more pain, but we have to, because no-one else will."

"Alright," I gave in, understanding where Harry was coming from, "Can I just... Can Buzz not be in the house when you ask? I can't... I can't take hearing him cry again." I couldn't, I really couldn't.

"Of course, if that makes things easier on you two." Harry smiled, "We'll discuss it in the morning."


	78. Chapter 78

75 Danny's POV

In the morning, we discussed and decided to try and plan a picnic in the field behind the house. It wasn't that much, but it was a traditional family activity, and while it was close to the house, it was still far enough away that it would feel like an outing. Also, it was a change, one that Buzz would appreciate, and one that would put Tom out of his comfort zone, while still being at least a little safe. It was perfect, or at least a good idea for the moment, and if it went wrong... at least Tom would be close to the house, so he could go back to the place he felt safe quickly.

It was also decided that I'd be asking him, mostly because I seemed to have some effect on him. Even when sometimes it wasn't the most positive of effects, I sometimes got further than everybody else. Though after last time, I wasn't sure that this was going to be such a good idea... I didn't want to make Tom cry again, I wanted him to be happy, like when we'd written some songs together the other month... could I somehow convince him using song writing? No, this was supposed to be about him and Buzz, giving them time together, nothing to do with work... damn, that wouldn't work.

By the time that Harry and Dougie had left for a while with Buzz, I still had no idea on what to say, but I was going to have to say something. I had to get this asked before Buzz came home, so if it went south, he didn't get caught up in the freak out.

Okay, here went nothing...

"Hey Tom, got a minute?" I asked, leaning against the tumble dryer as casually as possible, while Tom sorted washing.

"Er, I guess." Tom stopped sorting washing, looking in my direction, though not meeting my eyes.

"You can keep on sorting that out, if you want." I didn't want him to be uncomfortable, or force him to look at me while we were talking, if he didn't want to.

"It's fine... is, do you have a problem?" Tom fiddled with a t-shirt nervously.

"No, no problem. I just wanted to ask something." I bent to his level, not feeling comfortable standing over him. It felt like I was trying to intimidate him, force him into what I wanted him to do, which was not my intentions in the slightest. I wanted Tom to agree to this on his own terms, without feeling pressured or forced into it. I wanted him comfortable, in any way he could right now.

"It's just that... we were thinking, Buzz spends most of his time in the house, or in the garden, and it could be good to give him a new experience. So, what do you think about taking him for a little picnic on Saturday? Just in the fields behind the house, so it won't be far, but still something new for him to explore." I asked as gently as I could, so I looked trustworthy. Even though Tom knew me well, and had trusted me in the past, he could possibly have had that turned on its head in the past few years.

"Er, yes, it... sounds good, it'll... it'll be good for him." Tom agreed, oh thank god.

"That's what we thought, and there's trees and stuff that he can climb over. And, it'll be nice, to get out of the house." I smiled, being careful to not mention too much how hard Tom was working himself.

"O-Okay, you... you can take him." Tom nodded, going back to washing... wait, that wasn't completely what I meant...

"Tom, you do know we want you to come with us, right? I meant it as an outing for us all, including you." He had to know that I meant that, right? He had to know that I meant him in this too, not just us.

"Oh, oh... I don't know. There's, I have to a lot to do." Tom hesitated, it was clear that he wanted to say yes, so badly. He wanted to join in, to come out, but he couldn't, thanks to everything his wife had shoved into his head.

"Ah, don't worry about that, there's more than enough time to do everything that's needed before then, that's why I asked in advance." I waved him off, "And anyway, didn't Natasha suggest that you have a break? Just for an hour or two a week, to spend time with Buzz during the day?" it was a low blow, but it was what Natasha had suggested...

"She did." Tom bit at his lip.

"Yeah, so how about if we start that? We'll be near the house, so you can come in whenever you want." Please say yes, come on, please say yes.

"Okay, I'll... I'll come too." Tom still didn't look sure, but we had gotten him to agree, and that was the most important thing. He'd agreed, and we would show him what it was like to have fun. We would convince him to take more breaks, I was sure of it.


	79. Chapter 79

76 Tom's POV

Anxiety reared its head all week, freaking me out constantly, as I waited for the moment it was announced that we were leaving to go on this picnic.

Why had I agreed to go? _Why?_ I wasn't... I didn't _do_ things like this. I didn't go on picnics, or take a break from my duties. I wasn't, my wife said... I just _didn't_ do things like this. We never did things like this as a family. We... we just didn't. And if we did, I wasn't involved, not further than making the food and packing the bags in preparation.

But Natasha had insisted. Natasha had told me to go, to take a break once a week and spend time with my son. And Danny had looked so _hopeful_ that I would go, I had had to agree, or everyone would have been so disappointed. It was what I was supposed to do, or at least what was expected of me right now, so I had to agree. I couldn't disagree and ruin plans, that wasn't what I did anymore. I didn't ruin plans, I did as asked, and tried my best not to screw it up.

Fat chance of that. I wasn't _good_ with conversation, or relaxing, or _anything_ really. I had to... I didn't even know what I needed to do really. Not screw up, I guess? How did I do that?! I screwed up _everything!_ I couldn't... I couldn't talk to someone like a normal person, or play properly either. And picnics included that kind of thing as standard, but I didn't know how to do those things! Was I supposed to bring toys? Or let Buzz explore the field, let him play with leaves and fallen tree branches, show him bits of nature? Did we... did I _talk_ with my band mates, about... what did we talk about?! Was there anything to talk about?! I didn't... there wasn't anything I could think of!

"Hey, did we lose you in there?" Danny made me jump feet, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"I-It's fine, it's fine." It was fine, I was utterly fine. I just... I just needed to get out of my head.

"Alright, well we're ready to go when you are." Danny smiled gently.

"I'm ready." I had been _physically_ ready for a while, shoes on and everything packed. Mentally on the other hand, not so much.

"Great, wanna hold Buzz as we go?" Danny handed me my son, taking the picnic basket from me before I had time to protest.

"Dada!" Buzz grinned at me, hands fisting into my shirt, "Picnic! Food!"

"I think someone's excited." Danny laughed, tickling Buzz's foot, making him burst into cute giggles.

With that, we all stepped out of the house, Buzz scrambling to be set on the floor, practically dragging me by the hand down the road, despite not knowing where he was going. He was so excited to be going out, to have a bigger place to run around, so _damn_ excited.

Had we, I, been cooping him up too much? Had I been keeping him too wrapped up in the house and the garden? I'd only been following what my wife had done. She hadn't taken Buzz out that much really either. At least, not while I was in the house anyway. Maybe when I wasn't there, she took him out, I didn't know, I didn't know much at all of what she did with him while I wasn't around. All I knew was that when she did take him out, and I wasn't busy, I didn't go with them. Half the time, she didn't even tell me where they were going, even when it was just this field, and I could see them from the kitchen window.

Thinking back, I couldn't even think of a time I had been on any sort of trip out with Buzz. Not one. At least, not one that didn't include a music video shoot, or a tour. Not a _family_ day out, one that was a planned event, where we went out somewhere together for fun.

This was the first time I was going out with Buzz, specifically for fun. How had he grown up so much, and I hadn't even gone out with him _once?_


	80. Chapter 80

77 Harry's POV

Tom's arm nearly got ripped off, the way Buzz was pulling him onto the field. He didn't seem to mind much, looking more like he was trying to work something out in his mind, absently letting his son pull him.

"Field! Field! Field! Field!" Buzz was chanting, "Tree!" he pulled his dad towards the fallen tree on the right hand side, looking up at it in fascination.

Even though the trunk had fallen down years ago, it hadn't moved, or decayed in any way, so there was a still clearly defined bend in it, perfect to sit on, or under for that matter. It would have to be under for today, as Buzz was far too short to climb up it, or to sit up there without very careful supervision.

"Yeah Buzz, it's a bit tree, want to sit underneath it?" Danny asked, bending to the boys height.

"Yeah!" Buzz grinned, sitting down and yanking Tom with him. I felt slightly sorry for my friend in some ways, that did not look like fun. Not that he was really noticing, still in his own head, but still.

I laid down the blanket, encouraging Buzz to sit on that, before handing out the food Tom had packed. He'd thought of everything really. Strawberries, grapes, bananas, apples, sandwiches (ham and cheese, at our recommendation, after he had asked for it), and five mini sausage rolls.

We all tucked in, talking amongst ourselves, laughing when Buzz shouted out his observations of the world around him. it generally involved him pointing out insects and various animals roaming around the woods some way off, all of it absolutely fascinating to him. I wondered briefly if he'd ever been out here before, or been taken to any sort of open space that wasn't his own garden. Obviously, Tom hadn't been able to go with him, but had his wife taken Buzz out somewhere? Had she ever taken him out on trips like this, or taken joy in his fascination of the world?

The way he was lapping up the attention, it seemed like it wasn't likely. But then again, weren't all children like this? they loved attention, and having their questions answered, and being played with. Was this just Buzz being a child, or making up for all the lack of attention he'd had during the time he had spent with his mother?

I didn't know, and wasn't sure I wanted to know either. which seemed to be a running theme with us at the moment. None of us knew anything, and didn't particularly want to know all the terrible details of what went on behind the closed doors of the Fletcher house. Maybe we should have known more, tried to find out more, so we had some idea of why Tom was like he was...

Shaking myself out of it, I went back to concentrating on what was going on around us. Buzz had crawled into Tom's lap, letting the banana he had smeared across his face be cleaned up. in between, he was talking about the tree, looking over at it longingly.

"I think someone wants to explore the tree some more." I commented, trying to make it sound like I wasn't trying to angle for Tom to supervise Buzz.

"It's, it's a bit high." Tom looked at it worriedly, apparently back in the room.

"He'll be fine as long as someone holds him, I reckon." Dougie encouraged, "I've done it before with my cousins, when they were his age. As long as you hold them, then they're fine."

"Dada, tree please!" Buzz looked up pleadingly at Tom, but he still didn't look so sure.

"Go on, let him explore a bit. He'll enjoy it." Danny nudged Tom very gently in the shoulder.

"And we'll all still be here, so he'll be completely safe." I didn't want to make it sound like Tom wasn't capable of doing such a simple thing, but I wanted him to feel safe in the situation, like he had back up.

Tom thought for a few seconds, glancing between the tree and his son repeatedly, while Buzz reached out for the branches lower to the ground.

"Just the lower bits, for now." Tom gave in, holding Buzz closer to the tree.

Progress, it was possible.


	81. Chapter 81

78 Dougie's POV

Buzz was delighted to be allowed to explore the tree branch, picking at bits of it with complete fascination. It was adorable to watch, to see such wonder at the world in such a small boy, one who was also very clearly enjoying spending time with his dad.

Even Tom seemed to be enjoying himself on some level, his hands remaining protectively around Buzz's sides, giving his son the names of each bit of tree he picked up. There was hesitance there, like he wasn't sure what he was doing was right, but damn it he was _doing it,_ and that was so important. It had been so _long_ since we had last seen him do anything remotely fatherly with Buzz that didn't involve getting him up, feeding him or putting him to bed.

And now, here he was, holding onto his son, explaining to him about tree branches and leaves. Like a dad. Like a proper, normal dad. Not one who had been abused and beaten down so much he had no confidence left, not one who had a breakdown just last week at the mere _idea_ of being taken from his so called 'duties' inside the house. Tom was spending time with his son, and learning that it was _okay to do so,_ that it was okay to enjoy it, and there was nothing more important than that, _nothing._

This was what I had always imagined seeing, whenever I had thought of Tom as a dad. I had imagined him showing Buzz these sorts of things, taking him out to show him the world, encouraging his fascination with everything. I had imagined us all doing out with him, sharing at least some of his first experiences, being like a big family to that little boy. I remembered, years ago, when we all used to hang out in this very field (and how long ago had that been? At least four years, at _least_ ), and I had imagined at least one child between us in the future, joining in. I had always seen it, and for a moment, couldn't quite believe we were only _just_ seeing it now, over a year since Buzz was born, and under such stressful circumstances.

Buzz did soon get bored of the lower parts of the tree, wanting to climb up the curved part instead, moving quickly so Tom didn't have a choice in saying no. He had to be taken along for the ride, holding on tightly as the child wobbled along the tree branch, exploring every inch of it. The look on his face was one of an impending anxiety attack, but he held it together, letting Buzz do as he wished, until the boy jumped off nearer to the ground, bursting into loud giggles.

The laughter seemed to break a spell on all of us, stopping us from watching Tom for signs of it getting too much for him, bringing home that things were good, right at this moment. It was a moment of progress, not one of anxiety, we could laugh if we wanted to. So we did, starting our own giggles, or at least smiling at this tiny laughing child, who looked so _happy_ at this moment, happier than I had seen him in weeks.

Then, a minor miracle happened. Tom started smiling too, an actual, _real_ smile on his face. As in, an actual _smile,_ his eyes lighting up again, some tension slipping out of his body. He was smiling, he was relaxing, in that moment, he was _Tom_ again. Our Tom, the one we had loved ever since we had met him. Not the one who apologised for everything, or tried to do everything himself without a break, but actual Tom. The one I always imagined seeing when he was with Buzz.

I could have cried, and very nearly did when Buzz calmed down, and noticed the look on his dad's face.

"Dada smile more." He ordered innocently, like he could magically make it happen.

"Huh?" Tom asked, confused for a second.

"Dada smile more." Buzz repeated, tiny hand resting in Tom's dimple.

"O-Okay, I'll... I'll try." Tom answered, still clearly confused, even as his son let out a cheer and hugged him.


	82. Chapter 82

**perfectfiresky - I'm sorry I made you cry! But as for Tom and Buzz and their future, I'm not saying a word, that would be spoilers ;)**

79 Tom's POV

"So how did your picnic go last week?" Natasha asked kindly at our next session.

"I... It was the first time we had... it was the first time I had ever taken Buzz out somewhere." I still couldn't believe I hadn't... isn't that what father's did? Take their children out to the park, to play in fields, soft play areas, places like that? Wasn't that was I was supposed to do? I hadn't _ever_ done that, _ever._

All I had ever done was brought him to this therapist office, and to the supermarket. Nowhere else. That was _all_ I had ever done, how could I have only ever done that? How hadn't I noticed until we were in that field? How could I be so stupid to not realise? H _ow?_ I didn't understand, I honestly didn't understand, I wished I did.

"Was it really? Are you sure?" even Natasha seemed shocked, she should have been. Honestly, what kind of father didn't take his children out?

And what kind of father had their child tell them to _smile more?_ My son had to tell me that I needed to smile more. He was noticing things weren't right, he wasn't even two years old, and he knew that his dad wasn't what he should have been. He wasn't even _two years old_ and he knew that. What kind of father did that? What kind of father did that to their child?!

"Trust me, I think I would remember taking my son out somewhere to _play,_ like a normal father would." I didn't mean to snap at her, but I was just so _angry_ with myself. So damn _angry._ I hated myself, I hated that I was failing my son, and I hated that I couldn't do this right. I should have been able to do this right, everybody else could, why couldn't I?

"Well, under the circumstances, I guess it isn't too much of a shock." Natasha made me whip my head up to look at her, "What I mean to say is, is that your wife didn't even let you be with Buzz while you were in the house together, so it stands to reason that she would continue that separation during outings too."

"If, if she hadn't have left, then I would have never spent any time with him." the realisation had been in my head for days now, screaming at the forefront of my mind. "I wouldn't have gotten to know him at all. I wouldn't have been his dad, I would have been... I would have been no-one to him." I hated the idea, hated knowing that he wouldn't have known me, and that I would have been basically a stranger to him. My own son, living under the same roof as him, and we would have been _strangers_ to each other.

"I know, and that's a horrible thought, but, at least that didn't happen Tom. She left, and gave you the chance to bond, and to be the proper father and son you always should have been." Natasha tried to smile, it didn't help.

"But I have lost so much time! I have lost _so much_ damn time and there isn't enough time in the day to always spent time with him because I have so many other things to do to look after him and keep him safe! I can't do both! I can't do this by myself and I have lost so much time with him already!" I wanted to cry, to _scream_ and cry forever. Until I couldn't feel this helpless anymore, to feel like I could somehow control _something,_ to actually feel like I could do something right for Buzz.

"Then make up the time Tom, make time in the day to spent with him. It is possible, because single parents do it all the time, and manage it. You can do it too, and I can help with that, however you need me to help. But I can promise you right now, that all is not lost, nothing is ever lost. You may not be able to get back the time you have lost, but you can still get time now, and continue to have it for the rest of your life." Natasha told me, sounding determined.

"How? How can I? I have no idea what I'm doing!" I was doing what I had always done, and it wasn't enough, it would never be enough.

"By putting down the cleaning equipment, taking a breath, and playing with your son. Carve out time during the week, maybe just one afternoon or morning a week for now, and take that time to do something with Buzz. Watch a film, play a game, take him somewhere. Hell, you could spent a hour reading to him if you wanted, anything like that, _anything,_ will do. It may not go as you want it to the first few times, but it will be better than nothing. Everything counts here, _everything_." Natasha explained, "It'll be hard at first, and it'll feel weird and wrong, but it will get better and better. And you two will bond more, and you will be able to be the dad that you always wanted to be."

"What if I can't?" I wasn't _good_ at these things, I didn't know what I was doing constantly.

"I believe in you Tom, I know you can do it if you put your mind to it. I've seen you go through hell and crawl out the other side, you can do it now, I assure you." Natasha promised.


	83. Chapter 83

80 Danny's POV

Natasha advised us to support Tom in whatever he needed, to let him make some decisions about himself, and to keep from pushing him too hard to spend time with Buzz. He had to decide for himself, had to _choose_ to do what he wanted to do, and follow through on his own. Everyone had been pushing him into things for too long, and he had to learn to stand on his own two feet, or at least learn to make decisions for himself at least occasionally.

And the best way to encourage him to make a choice for himself, was to give him the choice between his routine, and Buzz. Tom desperately wanted to spend time with Buzz, wanted to make up for lost time and become the father he thought his son deserved, but to do that he had to work things out for himself and _choose_ to do something about it. If we carried on pushing him, and dragging him into everything we did, he wouldn't learn for himself. We would essentially be doing the same thing as his wife - manipulating him into acting, suffocating his own needs.

The thought of doing that to him made me feel sick, of being _anything_ like his wife was the most horrendous thought. I wouldn't ever... at least not _purposefully_ do that to him. The thought of actually forcing Tom into doing things he wasn't comfortable with... it was wrong, so damn awful. I resolved to never do that again, to only encourage him when he needed it. I would help when he asked for it, not when I felt like it was needed. Tom had to have control, Tom always had to have the control, he needed it more than anything.

Which is how I found him, sitting in Buzz's bedroom in the dark, researching on his laptop.

"Hey, what are you doing in here? Buzz having a bad teething night?" I whispered from the door, Tom leapt feet, but didn't make a noise, so Buzz slept on.

"I, no, no. I... the quiet, it's good. Not that you're too loud, or anything like that. No, no you can all make as much noise as you like, I just mean that," Tom started rambling, the panicked look on his face worsening.

"Whoa, slow down, I get what you mean. No need to explain." I stopped him kindly, stepping inside, sitting next to him, back against the wall.

Glancing at the screen, I saw the webpage for London Zoo was open, and the browser had tabs open for the Natural History Museum, parks in London, along with several other children-friendly places.

"Researching?" I asked, innocently enough. Not pushing, definitely not pushing. Just asking, asking was innocent, and fine. It was part of conversation, it gave Tom the chance to explain himself, to create a safe place for him to ask for help if he needed.

"Erm, yes. Natasha said that I should try harder with Buzz, a-as in taking him out places and spending time with him. I, I was just looking at possibilities." Tom explained, tripping over words the entire way through. Even without the stutters, it was one of the longest amounts of time I had heard him speak in a while.

"Cool, anything looking promising?" I asked, still wasn't pushing, just asking. It was all just _asking,_ I wasn't pushing anything. I was encouraging _slightly._ Ever so damn _slightly._

"I'm not sure." Tom did not sound comfortable admitting to that, not in the slightest. For a minute, I wondered what his wife did to him when he admitted to not knowing something, before pushing it away in case I got angry, "There's, there's just so many options. I, it's hard to figure out what would be best for now."

"Anything would be best now, I assure you. Whatever you do, I'm sure Buzz will love it." I smiled, "At his age, it's more about the experience of new things, than the actual thing you're doing. So anything is a safe bet for now, when he's older, that's when you can start planning trips and things that really cater to the things he loves."

"I, I guess." Tom bit at his lip, looking completely lost. Though whether it was at his choices, or the fact that he had to make a choice in itself, that was bothering him, was a mystery. I hoped it was the choices on offer, not the idea that he wasn't used to choosing things for himself.

"He'll love whatever you do together, because it'll be new to him, and because _you_ will be there, he will really love anything you do together." I promised, squeezing his knee.

"Okay, okay." Tom nodded, fingers tapping against his laptop.

"Trust your instincts, you won't go wrong." I patting his knee, "Just, try not to stay up all night worrying, alright? It's a day trip out, not picking out his university." I stood up, not wanting to crowd him for long.

"T-Thank you." Tom whispered, slightly bewildered that I was helping him.

"No worries. If you need me, or any of us, for anything else, you know where we are." I headed out, feeling like I shouldn't have been, but like I had to. To give him that space, let him choose, like he was supposed to.


	84. Chapter 84

81 Harry's POV

"Think he's any closer to a decision?" I asked, two days after Danny had walked in on Tom trying to find something for him and Buzz to do together. Tom hadn't mentioned anything to us about a trip out so far, even after his conversation with Danny, and none of us had mentioned it, just in case he backed out due to pressure.

"Not a clue." Danny answered, putting some plates in the dishwasher. We had taken to doing some jobs around the house. Nothing too big, just emptying and loading the dishwasher, sometimes making dinner, small things, to get Tom used to the idea of us helping out. And that he didn't need to constantly be cleaning up after everyone. It was confusing him a bit, but he was accepting it as best he could, as in, had insisted that he could do it, but backed down when we told him that we wanted to do something around the house.

"He still looks deep in thought a lot of the time." Dougie joined in, placing clean plates in the cupboard.

"Probably shouldn't ask either, in case we push him into it." Danny was so thoroughly against pushing Tom in any way. He did his absolute best to subtly encourage, without ever saying anything that could be construed as taking over. It was difficult to do, and made conversations feel like a mine field, as so many things could seem to be orders when they weren't. But, he was learning, we all were. Slowly.

"He'll make his choice in time, it's got to be hard, to suddenly take charge, after so long without any agency." It had to be, I couldn't imagine not having any control over my own life, not being allowed to make decisions over what I did or anything. Getting used to having that power back had to be difficult, and tough to get used to again. Especially when it was over something like taking your child out for the day for the first time. Well, second. But the point still stood.

It took another day of deliberating before Tom seemed to make a decision. Or at least he stopped looking so worried and indecisive. After that, it took another day before he told us his plans. He chose to talk to us after Buzz had gone to bed, sneaking down the stairs as quietly as possible before hovering in the door way, almost like he was ready to run away the second things took a bad turn. Not that they would, we were prepared to support him, whatever his choice.

"I was thinking... I mean, I was... Natasha told me to, to take Buzz out somewhere. A-And I was thinking of maybe going, going to erm, to London Zoo. I was wondering if you... would you like, would it be okay if, if... would you like to come along too?" Tom stuttered horribly, fidgeting badly on the spot, clearly terrified of our reaction.

When was the last time he had asked someone to do something with him? When was the last time he had asked anything of anyone, even if they wanted to go somewhere nice with him? It had to be so long ago, judging by his reaction.

"Yeah, sounds like fun! When were you thinking of going?" I answered for all of us, since we'd all agreed that we would go along too, wherever he decided. If not just for moral support, and damage control, if he got overwhelmed.

"Next, next week. On Saturday." Tom was still cringing in fear, his hands were shaking. God, what had that wife of his done when he had asked for something as simple as a trip out with his son?

"I'm in!" Danny grinned, pride in his eyes.

"It's been years since I last went to the zoo, I'm definitely in." Dougie smiled.

"No way I'm saying no either. Looks like we're all in." I put my arm around Dougie's shoulders, feeling like the three of us should look as non-threatening as possible.

"Great, I mean... thank you. I'll, I'll find a way to get there." Tom disappeared up the stairs, slightly disappointingly. But he had done well, it was a good first step, and that was all we could ask for right now.


	85. Chapter 85

82 Tom's POV

I planned everything in advance, our journey's to and from the museum, where we would be getting food, which exhibits were a priority and which could possibly be left if there wasn't time, everything. I couldn't leave anything to chance, had to have it all planned, had to have it perfect. We were going out, it was Buzz's first trip out to the Natural History Museum, and our first proper trip out as a family, it had to be perfect.

And at the same time, it had to be enjoyable for everyone. Danny, Harry and Dougie had to enjoy themselves too, they couldn't be bored, or miss out on something they wanted to see. It had to be fun for everyone, not just Buzz. So I had to plan, I had to plan everything, despite Harry telling me that it was fine, we could take things as they went. I couldn't do that, I really couldn't do that. I had to plan it, had to make sure it was perfect, so I didn't screw up. I screwed up so often, I had to do this right. If I did one thing right, it had to be this, it had to be this. This was huge for us, it had to be good, nothing could go wrong. Oh God, please let nothing go wrong.

The day of the trip rolled round too quickly, and while I had everything planned, I was still a mass of anxiety, scared of everything that could possibly go wrong. I had tried to plan for everything I could, had packed extra clothes and food for Buzz, had asked everyone which things they wanted to see and created the perfect route, but what if one exhibit was closed? What if Buzz got bored, or got scared of some of the models? I didn't want him to be scared!

"Tom, chill, everything is going to be okay. I swear, everything is going to be perfectly okay." Danny promised as we walked up the steps to the museum. The trains had been fine, thankfully. Buzz had even enjoyed going on the train for the first time, or at least the first time in a very long time. I was never sure where he had gone with his mum.

"I, I know." I did, I did know, if everything went to plan, everything would be fine. But it had to go to plan.

"Take a deep breath, we're going to have a good time, no matter what happens." Danny smiled, stroking my arm gently, "Now, where are we going first?"

"Dinosaurs!" Dougie answered before I could, he had asked if we could see that first, as it was his favourite bit, and he thought Buzz was really enjoy it too.

"Great, Doug, lead the way." Harry nearly got yanked inside by his excited husband. We had already decided to let Dougie lead the way for the day, as he knew the museum better than any of us, thanks to the amount of times he had been here, and how many times he had watched the David Attenborough documentary over the years. I was more than happy to let him lead, he knew what he was doing, and knew all the best parts to go, it made sense to let him lead.

"Follow me boys, first stop is Dippy!" Dougie lead us into the entrance hall, "Buzz, say hello to Dippy the Diplodocus."

I pulled Buzz out of his pram, resting him on my hip so he could see the huge model in the entrance hall. As he laid eyes on it, his little eyes widened, staring up at the skeleton on display.

"Dinosaur!" Buzz reached out for it, staring up in wonder.

"Yeah Buzz, it's a dinosaur, a real one too!" Danny grinned, "Isn't it cool?"

"Wow." Buzz whispered, "Dada, dinosaur!"

"I know Buzz, do you like it?" Natasha had told me it was good to ask Buzz questions, to engage him in what we were showing him, that it would help us bond and make his experience more enjoyable.

"Dinosaur!" Buzz answered with a wide grin, continuing to stare up in wonder.

So far, so good.


	86. Chapter 86

83 Danny's POV

Slowly, we made our way through the museum, looking at all the skeletons and models, playing the interactive stuff, everything there was on offer. Buzz _loved_ it, especially the dinosaurs, and the giant whale model that hung from the ceiling in one exhibit.

"Dada! Dada!" Buzz pulled on Tom's top, pointing up at the model.

"Yeah Buzz, that's called a whale. It lives in the sea." Tom told him, he'd been rather vocal today, reading out plaques to his son, acknowledging his cries of excitement. There had been a nervous edge to his voice originally, but it had calmed as he got into the swing of things.

"Can you say whale Buzz?" I asked the toddler, knowing it was a good thing to do with a child. Encouraged them to learn new words or something, and as Buzz was learning new words every day as it was, we may as well have encouraged him along.

"Whale." Buzz repeated, dragging out the 'a' a bit longer than necessary, but not bad for his first time.

"That's it Buzz, well done." Tom hesitated, then kissed Buzz's cheek, the boys smile turning into a grin.

We went on through the another exhibit, before deciding to call it a day, we had been out for hours at this point, and we had seen everything we had wanted to see. Buzz was starting to rub his eyes in tiredness too, so it was probably time to get him home, before he got grumpy.

Though, we didn't really need to worry about that, Buzz fell asleep on the walk to the train, tucked up safely in his buggy, clutching at the stuffed T-Rex Tom had bought him at the gift shop. And he slept soundly all the way, not even twitching when Tom put him down in his cot, tucking him in with the most fatherly warmth I had ever witnessed.

"So, worth going out today?" I asked after Tom had shut the door to Buzz's room.

"I, I think so. Did you enjoy yourself?" Tom countered, self consciously pulling his jacket around himself.

"Yeah, loved it. We all did." Especially Buzz, I couldn't remember the last time I had seen him so happy. In fact, I wasn't sure he had ever been that happy, or filled with so much wonder. Even as he'd clung to Tom's shirt, and had clearly enjoyed the attention Tom had been given him, he had never looked so fascinated as he had today.

"G-Good, I'm glad." Tom relaxed a little, though he looked tired. Not that I could blame him really, because while we were all having fun, and he had been too, he had still been stressed. Stressed and worried. It must have taken a great lot of energy to keep himself calm, forget about his routine and go so far out of his comfort zone.

"I am too." I smiled, "You were great today, by the way. Really great. You should be proud of yourself." I wasn't sure if I was overstepping my bounds here, but I had to say something. I couldn't leave him to wonder if he had done well or not, he had to know, from someone who was _there,_ that he had done well.

"Er, thanks." Tom shifted awkwardly on the spot.

"I mean it, you did great. Now go and get some rest, you look dead on your feet." I encouraged, knowing it sounded like I was ordering him, and damn it I didn't want to do that to him, but I couldn't help it this time. Tom had done so well today, he deserved rest. And if someone didn't tell him, he wouldn't actually rest, probably go back to cleaning or something.

We had had such a good day, and Tom deserved to keep the break going for the rest of the day. He had done _so_ well, he deserved the rest, more than anything.

"I'm fine." Tom covered, "There's some things I need to do." He turned to go.

"At least sit down for a while, you've been up and carrying Buzz around all day," he hadn't let him go all day, only let him onto the ground so they could walk together, holding hands, "Have a break for yourself. Just half an hour, to recuperate." I didn't want to plead, I just... I _missed_ Tom, I wanted to spend time with him. Even after spending a day with him, I wanted to spend more time with him, I didn't want it to end.

He had been _talking_ today, and smiling, and actually looked like he was enjoying himself at times, I wanted to continue that, and be a part of that. I wanted to be a part of his continued happiness, not for him to shut himself off again, to wait until our next trip out until he let down his hair a bit.


	87. Chapter 87

84 Harry's POV

Tom seemed out of place the entire time at the Natural History Museum, like he didn't know where to put himself, or how to interact. The amount of times I saw him hesitate before he said something, most of the time actually opening his mouth to talk, before snapping it shut again. We had all tried to get him to join in the conversation, but he'd never looked comfortable. Hell, he hadn't even looked confident in what he saying, even when he was reading something to Buzz.

Hell, talking to Buzz made him look fearful, like he honestly did not have a clue on what he was doing, or if he was doing it right. It broke my heart to see, knowing that this was what Tom trying his best looked like. He was doing so well, but he was still so uncertain, like he didn't have a clue on how to deal with the situation. It was us though, he knew us, knew we wouldn't judge, or beat him down for talking. He shouldn't have looked like that.

Natasha had warned us about it though, saying that he would feel scared and be unsure of what he was doing. All we could do was try to act like everything was normal, and treat him like we would back before we knew about his wife. That, and let him take as much charge as he wanted, give him as much responsibility as he wanted to have. We had tried, but it was hard. Sometimes I just wanted to shake Tom out of it, make him see that everything was fine, and that he could do what he wanted, he could talk with us and do what he wanted. That he didn't need to constantly be quiet, to stand in the background.

"It was the best we could hope for." Dougie sighed, crawling into bed, wearing the new dinosaur t-shirt he had bought himself from the gift shop.

"I know, and I know that it's progress, and that he had fun. I just... it's hard, to see him doubt even talking to us." it was so hard to watch, to see him doubting us, of all people. But I guessed, having your wife emotionally manipulate you into believing that you are a completely useless and terrible human being would do that to a person. No matter how unfair it was. Unfair, and cruel.

"He needs practice, that's all." Dougie curled up to my chest, hand curling round my hip bone, "I know I did. I needed practice in being myself again."

"How so?" I hadn't really heard this before, of course, Dougie had said that he had found it difficult to adjust back to his life again after rehab, but I hadn't heard this before.

"Tom's... it's hard to explain, and I don't even know if I'm right." Dougie trailed off for a minute, I let him have as long as he needed, as he sometimes need a while to gather his words.

"It's like... he's been living as somebody else for so long, not realising that he's been different. He's been taught to be quiet, to not argue with anything, to hide from even the slightest hint of fun." Dougie started, "He's got to learn to be himself again, to regain the confidence to be himself too. He hasn't got any confidence in himself at all right now, so he's second guessing every move. In case it brings out the same anger it did in his wife, in us. He's just got to learn that we won't be cruel, and that it's okay being himself again."

"Makes sense, when did you come up with that?" I asked, stroking a hand through his hair.

"From what I can tell, the aftermath of emotional manipulation is a bit like depression. After the captors gone, you're stuck trying to regain yourself, remember who you are, and figure out where you fit in again. The main difference between the two, to me, is that depression can be cured, or at least curbed, with pills and therapy, and the help of friends and family. Recovering from an abusive relationship takes all that, as well as realising that you were in that kind of relationship, and you're having to relearn what a healthy relationship with anyone looks like. It's hell, and takes so much work it's exhausting." Dougie explained, I had no idea whether to be completely heartbroken by his explanation, or to be so glad that a) he had gotten through the other side of this, or b) to be thankful he was here to offer some insight into what was happening.

"Sometimes, I forget you're so insightful." I really shouldn't have, but sometimes, I did. Dougie was just so... sometimes I forgot that he was an adult now, not a child. Not the fifteen year old boy he once was, so young and innocent.

"It's not insight, just experience." Dougie shrugged.


	88. Chapter 88

85 Dougie's POV

I didn't know if I was completely right, but it made sense to me that Tom was feeling the way I had explained, or at least something similar to it. He had been brought down and treated like a slave for years, his personality crushed until he was this terrified person, filled with anxiety over every move he made. He'd have to relearn who he was, discover that he could do the things he loved, and break the 'rules' his wife had imposed on him, that much was obvious. And, it was also so obvious that he was depressed too, even while on his own medication, he was depressed. It wasn't surprising really, considering his current situation.

And, hell, that wasn't even thinking about the fact that my own therapist had once said that depression was like an abusive relationship with myself. They had explained that depression had beaten me down, forced me to change my behaviour, made me lose who I was as a person. So, of course it had to be similar, surely they were slightly similar situations. Or, at least had similar healing processes.

"Thank you, for the insight, either way. It's helpful to have a little explanation." Harry squeezed me tight, pressing a kiss to my hair.

"Yeah, it's worrying, trying to figure out what's going on by yourself." Which was why I always tried to air my problems and concerns with Harry, as soon as I was able. Sometimes I was too scared to, and took some time to gather courage to say it, but I always tried my best to say it. Being silent didn't help anybody, talking helped, it allowed people to understand what you were going through, so they could offer help. Or, at the least, stop worrying so hard about what was going on.

"Maybe you should try to talk to Tom, he could find it useful, talking to someone who partially understands what it's like." Harry suggested, turning us both onto our sides, so we were spooning.

"Could do, though whether he takes the opportunity is another matter." I doubted Tom would, he was struggling to have _normal_ conversations with us, let along one as deep as one about his mental health. Seeing him today had shown he was getting better with talking with Buzz, but with everyone else? Not so much. Watching his stop himself from talking to us so often had been heartbreaking, and I wanted desperately to have a proper conversation with him, but it was so difficult. Tom just wasn't good with conversation anymore, he wasn't used to it. He escaped any conversation as soon as he could, and it was going to take a long while to get him to gain his confidence back in that respect.

"Good point... maybe when he's feeling a bit better. At least offer the invitation out to him, just in case." Harry agreed, "Or maybe some offer some help, when he's struggling with something."

"I could do." I considered it, "Think it's a good idea to strike up the conversation myself? You know, just start talking to him about how hard I found adjusting to normal life again, after rehab? Or would that just freak him out?"

"That would probably freak the living daylights out of him straight away. I wouldn't recommend doing that without any sort of warning, or without preparing him in some way for that conversation." Harry answered, good point really.

"Yeah, considering Danny scared him just by suggesting he stopped cleaning to play with Buzz, talking about taking your life back after a few years of struggle would cause some sort of massive freak out." To say the least it would, dear God I didn't even want to consider the aftermath of even trying that conversation. It made me shudder just thinking about it.

"I'd wait for something like that, like when he's better able to express himself." Harry suggested, "It's a good idea though, I'd definitely consider talking to him about that, so he knows that he's not alone on that front."

"Alright. I'll consider it, once he's more used to going out of his comfort zone. Possibly when he starts really taking back some control." I would do it, I would definitely do it, without a doubt. It was all about timing right now, picking the right time to talk about things, suggesting ideas, and generally offering support. It had to be at the right time, in the right mood, or everything fell to pieces.


	89. Chapter 89

86 Tom's POV

"It sounds like you all had a great time together." Natasha smiled, after I explained to her how things had gone at the Natural History Museum. The trip had been just yesterday, and if I was honest, I still wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Everyone had fun, yeah." We all did, I was sure that everyone enjoyed themselves. It was just...

"You aren't sure about it, though, are you?" Natasha sensed my unease.

"I don't know." I really didn't, I just... there were so many good things about yesterday, Buzz had had the best time out there, seeing all the models and the skeletons. He'd learnt new words, been given new toys, and had generally loved every minute of it. He'd been so happy.

But, to me, it felt... _wrong._ Like at any moment, anything could go wrong, like the whole day, I was waiting to screw up. To have something go wrong. To prove that I wasn't cut out for this. I'd felt awkward, and weird, the whole day.

"I'm, I'm not really _used_ to things like this. I, I didn't know what I was doing." I stuck to my plan, but I didn't know how to _act._ Did I talk with everyone on the way round? Point out things I noticed on whatever exhibit we were looking at? I hadn't wanted to be annoying, or butt into conversations I wasn't a part of, or get in the way. Yet everything I did felt like I was doing those things, constantly.

"That's a normal thing to feel when you're in a situation like this, I'm afraid. You've spent years adjusting your behaviour to make your wife happy, it takes a lot of courage to speak up and join in after something like that." Natasha said sympathetically, I didn't know if I liked the sympathy or not. It was nice to know that it was slightly normal, but I didn't want to feel like this, not at all, "We can work on it together, if you'd like."

Good, yeah, that, that may be good. To get rid of some of the anxiety. It was always there, constantly, in every social situation I was in. I never knew what to say or do, where to stand, what facial expression I should have been pulling, anything. Last week, just _asking_ if the boys wanted to go out with Buzz and I had been possibly the worst case of anxiety I had felt in a _long_ while.

"Is there anything else bothering you, about yesterday's events?" Natasha asked, like she could sense that I had a lot to talk about.

"I, it felt... _wrong,_ in some ways." I hadn't ever done something like that before - been out for the entire day with my son, doing fun things. My wife had always been the one to take him out, I'd always stayed home.

"My wife, she always... she always said that I shouldn't go out with him. That I would bring the day down, and ruin it by screwing it up somehow. That someone needed to stay home, look after the house. Going out didn't feel... I felt like I should have been at home, out of the way, so everyone else could enjoy themselves." I would have spent the entire time longing to be there with Buzz, but that was what I was _used_ to. I was used to being at home, watching from the outside, being kept away from the fun things. I wasn't used to being out in the middle of it, semi-taking charge of the whole day.

"Would you have preferred to stay in?" Natasha asked, I shrugged, I really didn't know, I didn't feel like I knew _anything_ anymore.

"I'm sorry, I don't know, I honestly don't know." I really wished I knew, that I could give her an answer, but I couldn't.

"It's okay to be confused, and to not know how you feel about it. That's why I'm here, to help you." Natasha smiled reassuringly, going through everything she could with me in the time we had for our session.

We talked about how everything felt as I did them, what my instincts told me to do, and what I thought I had to do, deep down. We separated those feelings out into the conditioned responses my wife had taught me, what _I_ really wanted to do, and how to make myself feel more comfortable in a similar situation. It was mainly all practice, everything was about practice, repeating things until I got used to it, until it felt normal.

And, one thing that Natasha insisted on, was trying to make decisions on my own. Taking some level of control back, even on small things. Like, not asking what everyone wanted for dinner, just picking something and _making_ it, choosing to not do a piece of housework that I had done the day before, and doing something for myself instead. It was an uncomfortable thought, but Natasha thought it would be really beneficial to me to try it.

"You've had so much control taken from you, and have been forced into a routine that takes you away from the things you love. It's a hard thing to deal with, but taking back control will really help you in the long run. You've relied on your wife constantly for years, by taking back control, you're putting yourself in charge again, so you can have a say in your own life, in what happens to you. It's something everyone has the right to have, and you can have, you just have to reclaim it."


	90. Chapter 90

87 Danny's POV

After Tom's therapy session, he did what he usually did, which was go straight back to his housework, starting with tidying up. He had such a routine down, it was almost planned to the _second,_ so we all knew exactly where he was at any one time. I couldn't tell if that was reassuring, or slightly eerie, to be able to look at the clock and know exactly which room Tom was in, and exactly what he was doing.

Currently, he was cooking dinner in the kitchen, and strangely, he hadn't actually asked us what we wanted. Usually, he came in and asked if his meal plan was alright with us, or at least what we wanted. Today though, he hadn't. Tom had disappeared into the kitchen an hour ago, and hadn't come back out again. I could smell a bolognaise cooking, which was absolutely fine, but it was odd to know that he had broke pattern and not asked anything first.

"Natasha did say he's got to gain back control. Maybe he's doing that now, by deciding what we're all eating and not asking first." Harry suggested, smiling as Dougie 'attacked' Buzz with his new triceratops toy, from the museum. Buzz squealed with delight, giggling in the most adorable way. It reminded me of Tom, when he was younger, when he had laughing fits like that. I couldn't even remember the last time he had _laughed._

"Yeah, that's probably it." I wanted to believe that, and nothing worse was going on, but it was hard not to worry sometimes. Tom worried me constantly, no matter what he was doing.

"It's what I did, when I needed to gain control back. Dinner is a good place to start, because the worst you can do is make something that your house mates don't fancy that day." Dougie reassured with a smile. Well, I guessed if any of us knew anything about regaining your personality, and your right to choose what you wanted in life, it was Dougie. Though he had been in a bit of a different situation, he had been fighting himself, instead of years of ingrained abuse thanks to the person you were married to. Still though, if one of us had any idea of what was going on in Tom's head, it would be Dougie, I was more than happy to let him be the voice of reason.

"You made cake." Harry smiled, "Because you wanted something sweet."

"And because it didn't need to be eaten immediately, it could be enjoyed later if needs be." Dougie shrugged, "Tom's more practical than me though, he'll start with dinner. Or possibly lunch, or breakfast. A main meal at the least."

None of us mentioned the fact that Tom wasn't exactly good with food control, and had past experience of having issues with meals. Though, was it relevant? Possibly. But really, he was only preparing a meal, it wasn't like he was skipping any. It was fine, at least for now...

Not twenty minutes later, the door opening, Tom barely popping his head out from behind the door, filled with apprehension.

"I, I made spaghetti bolognaise." Tom started, good start, very good start actually, "I-If that's okay."

"Sounds good to me!" I smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.

"Yeah, sounds great, need any help dishing up?" Harry asked, standing.

"Oh, no, no, I've already... it's all done." Tom shook his head, fidgeting, "It's on the table, so whenever you're ready to eat it, it's there." He picked Buzz up, who had run to him as he'd walked through the door.

"Lead the way." I wished he didn't look like we were about to kill him for deciding this, like he was literally bracing himself to be shouting at and abused for his choice. It was _dinner,_ it didn't _matter_ in the long run. Whatever Tom wanted, was good enough for us, just as everything he did was. He was perfect the way he was, and if he misjudged something, then it was a mistake, one that could be moved on from easily enough. A decision shouldn't have caused this much fear, never, ever this much fear. Especially over something so small.


	91. Chapter 91

88 Tom's POV

I felt like I couldn't breathe as I had told everyone about dinner, still felt my stomach and chest tighten as everyone settled in the dining room. This wasn't right, I was just talking about dinner, not suggesting we all did something permanent and insane. And yet I couldn't help but feel so sick at the thought of telling them that I had cooked something for them without asking first.

I always used to ask, always used to discuss it with my wife. She always told me exactly what she wanted, and lord help me if I didn't have the right things to make it. But I always did my best, and I always asked first, I never did anything without asking, or without being ordered to do it. I wasn't used to just choosing and doing something without anyone's permission, apart from my own. It wasn't... it didn't feel right.

But it was just dinner, not a permanent thing, like I said. It was just dinner. Just one damn dinner. Yet it felt pivotal, like everything rested on it. if nobody wanted that to eat that day, or if they didn't like it, I'd upset them, and if I upset them, it wouldn't end well. I didn't like upsetting people, upset people always got angry, and when they got angry, the shouting started. Once the shouting started it didn't stop, the words cut deep, and I'd be stuck sleeping on the sofa again, being treated like I was completely incompetent and stupid. I didn't want that again, not here, not with these people, not with Danny, Harry and Dougie. They were all I had left, literally all I had left. I couldn't disappoint them, let alone lose them.

"This is really good Tom, did you do put something new in?" Danny asked, nudging my hand gently, stopping it pushing small pieces of mince around the plate. All the worry about this had taken all my appetite.

"N-No. I just, I cooked it like normal." No way was I going to do anything different, especially when I just decided to do something on my own. No way in hell was I going to do anything different.

"Ah, well it tastes really good. Thank you." Danny smiled, taking another big mouthful. He looked genuinely happy to be eating it, but was he really? Was he really happy to be eating it? Did he actually want to eat this meal today? Did anyone?

Harry and Dougie seemed to be enjoying their meal too, and Buzz was having fun squashing it between his fingers before eating it, but was it actually okay? I couldn't, I couldn't tell. They could have been lying to me, but why would they be lying? Why would the lie about something so simple like a meal? I could have made something else if they wanted it, no problem, I had done it before just fine! Were they all just being nice? I couldn't tell! I couldn't tell!

The world span uncomfortably with the stress of it all, an overwhelming sense of doom coming over me in huge waves. I felt like I was going die, that I'd made a fatal mistake and it would be the straw that broke the camels back. But everyone was fine, but I didn't know if it was all an act or if they were genuinely pleased or anything! I couldn't read their faces, not like I could my wife's, they looked happy but I couldn't tell if they were but if they weren't why weren't they shouting?! Unhappy people shouted and made it known and took it out on me because I was the one making mistakes and getting it wrong why weren't they reacting why weren't they reacting?!

"I, I have to go." I had to get out of the room, away from their faces. I needed air, space to escape and think things through. Away from the tension and the fear, from what could cause me harm later on.

Ignoring their calls, I escaped from the room, pushing myself outside into the garden, heaving in breaths, trying desperately to get rid of the need to be sick, to stop my whole body from shaking almost violently. This wasn't right, this wasn't right in the slightest. This wasn't supposed to happen to me, this wasn't supposed to be how it felt to cook a meal for people I cared about without asking first. I had made a decision for myself and it felt awful, this wasn't right. It wasn't right at all. It couldn't be right. Nobody else felt like this, why did I have to? Why did I have to feel like this? Why couldn't I be normal? I wanted to be normal, I wanted to feel normal again.


	92. Chapter 92

89 Dougie's POV

"Tom!" Danny went to get up and follow Tom, but I grabbed him back.

"Let me, I think its my turn." I pulled Danny to sit down, "You two look after Buzz."

Slowly, I made my way outside, giving Tom a few minutes to cool down by himself. I knew from experience that being left alone to calm down was what was best. At least, not being mollycoddled constantly was greatly appreciated. It was embarrassing, to have people around you feel like you needed looking after constantly, being allowed to be alone was sometimes for the best, even if it was just for a couple of minutes.

I waited until Tom's heaving breaths slowed, before making my way outside, sliding to sit next to him. By the looks of him, his shaking legs hadn't been able to hold him upright, and he'd fallen over, poor sod, I knew that feeling well.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I swear I'm fine." Tom breathed, holding onto his knees with white knuckles.

"Well, if you're sure." I made it sound like I believed him, "But if you don't mind, I'll stay for a bit. Panic attacks aren't the best thing in the world." I knew from experience, a lot of experience. It was scary, and painful, and made you feel like you were dying while it was happening. Afterwards, you were exhausted, and still scared, and to be honest, still felt like you were going to die. It was sometimes best to be around someone, especially afterwards, to give some support.

"O-Okay." Tom nodded, breathing out harshly, "Wasn't, wasn't a panic attack."

"What would you say it was then?" I asked, wondering how he was phrase it, or even if he would admit what happened.

"Nothing, nothing, really. It was nothing." Tom whispered, face so pale I thought he was going to pass out soon.

"If you say so." I agreed for the moment, letting Tom have some silent company for a few minutes.

"You know, I went through the same feelings, a few years ago, quite regularly actually." Tom knew that too, had watched me pass out many a time thanks to an attack of my own, "I didn't know what they were at first, but, I eventually figured out that they were panic attacks, and harsh ones too. And, I learnt how to cope with them, or at least, how to calm myself down, sometimes even stop them before they started."

"They're not, they're not panic attacks." Tom protested, shaking his head.

"They look like they are to me, and trust me when I say I've been through enough to notice the symptoms." I said it as kindly as I could, rubbing his knee, which was curled to his chest.

"No, I, it's not that. I don't, I don't have..." Tom trailed off, breathing getting erratic again.

"Shh, it's alright, trust me, it's alright. I know it's scary, and it's hard to understand, but trust me when I say it's perfectly normal. And you can get help for them, so you feel calmer, and give you a chance to gain back some control." I had been there, I knew it could be done. I rarely had attacks anymore, even when I was highly stressed.

"No, no. I, I shouldn't be... this shouldn't be happening." Tom whimpered, burying his head in his knees.

"Tom, you're under a lot of stress, so much stress and fear that not many people could deal with it without collapsing. It's a perfectly natural thing to get overwhelmed and to have a panic attack like this, we all understand what you're going through, and completely understand why you've reacted like this. No-one is judging you, or thinking less of you for it, just like you never judged me." I moved to rub his back instead, almost able to feel his lungs desperately try to pull in air. God he was skinny, had he lost weight recently?

"If you want, we can talk to Natasha, she'll be able to help you to calm down, at least a little bit. She's here to help, and she'll be able to help with this too." I managed to smile, unsure if I was helping or not. I didn't think I was, but I had to tell him that things could get better, I knew from experience that they could. I felt, so often, like Tom felt like he was going through the motions, not actually believing that things were going to get better. He needed to know that things got better eventually, that things wouldn't be awful forever, things were never awful forever. He could get through this, I knew it. He needed help, that was all.


	93. Chapter 93

90 Harry's POV

"Dada?" Buzz asked, staring out the door, such a confused look on his face. It would have been cute if it wasn't for the reason he looked like that.

"It's okay Buzz, Daddy needed to go outside for a bit, and uncle Dougie is with him, he'll make sure he's okay." I smiled at the child, picking a piece of spaghetti off his face. How he got it in his hair i would never know.

"What did we do?" Danny whispered too, ashen faced.

"I don't know." I really didn't, I wished I did, "Maybe it got too much, he tried to make a big step, and it was too much. Whatever it was, Doug seems to have an idea."

"Do you think he'll be able to fix it?" Danny looked ready to leg it outside to step in. I didn't blame him really, Dougie wasn't the best of us to offer comfort. He tried his best but he was a bit awkward.

"I think this time he will be fine. He's had experience with panic attacks and all of this." I remembered clearly the anxiety, the fear. His tiny face so filled with fear and frustration at his own brain, it had torn my heart apart to watch him like that. I'd had my own fair share of anxiety too over the years, but Dougie… Dougie had had all the other problems to go with it. The depression and low self worth, the need to relearn how to be 'him' again. Thinking about it, maybe Dougie was the right person to talk to Tom…

"I, I hate her, Harry." Danny glanced at Buzz, but the boy was playing with his meal, so wasn't paying attention.

"Huh?" I looked up from the baby to my friend.

"I hate her. I want to hur- I want to find her, and find out why, why she would do this to him, why she would dare to destroy him so much. It isn't fair. He's so... He's Tom." Danny's knuckles went white around the table edges.

"I don't think there's reason to it, not really. I think she just... It just is the way she is." I sighed, I couldn't be sure, but that was the only explanation I had. What else was there? That she found it fun? That she thought it funny? The idea of that was too horrifying to contemplate.

"We should have noticed." Danny growled, "we should have done something." He stood up abruptly, storming out of the room. I let him, knowing he needed space. We all did, sometimes. Everything felt wrong, like we failed at everything we tried to do, we all needed time to cool down.

"Looks like it's just you and me now kiddo." I stroked Buzz's hair. The boy smiled at me, oblivious to the tension of this entire house. I was grateful for that, I'd hate to think that a child so young was being affected by all this. He didn't deserve to know what his mother was like, or what she did to his father.

It was bad enough that we were left with the guilt of it all, a child so innocent shouldn't have been left with it too. We could handle it, do what we could to sort Tom out and give him support, Buzz couldn't do anything. The only thing he could do was provide Tom with a distraction from what was happening. Though even that was difficult, thanks to all the things his mother had put into his father's head.

At least he could give Tom reason to keep on trying. Keep on fighting to get better. I was starting to doubt he'd be fighting at all if it wasn't for Buzz. He looked so defeated most days, like he was barely holding on, and today just proved to me that he had so much work to do before he was even ready to even try to take any kind of risk.

"You'll convince him to keep going," I wiped Buzz off, kissing his hair, "he will do it for you." I was sure of it. Tom had to do it, he couldn't carry on like this. He had to get better, he had to.


	94. Chapter 94

91 Danny's POV

I couldn't do this, I couldn't just _watch_ all the time, I couldn't watch and let Tom suffer by himself. He was having _panic attacks_ over doing something as simple as _choosing dinner._ His damn wife had screwed up his head so much he couldn't even make such a simple decision without having a God damn _panic attack._

I hated her, I hated her with everything I had. That woman had ruined _everything,_ she had _ruined_ Tom, destroyed everything he once was and turned him into an empty shell, one who was so uptight and stressed out he couldn't do the simplest of things. How was that fair? How was it at all fair that he was like this? Why did this happen to him? Why couldn't she have been _nice,_ and _normal,_ like we had all thought she was? That woman was a monster, and if I could get my hands on her... words couldn't describe what I'd do to her if I could get my hands on her.

We should have noticed something too. We should have noticed Tom disappearing before our very eyes. But we didn't. We thought he was tired. That he was feeling ill. That he was having a bad time with his bipolar. We _never_ suspected his wife, or what was happening behind closed doors. How couldn't we have noticed? It was _Tom,_ and we didn't notice that his wife was bullying him to the point where he lost basically everything that made him, him. And we _missed_ that, were completely oblivious to it all. I thought I was observant when it came to my friends, I thought I noticed when things were wrong, had trained myself to notice when things were wrong, so no-one suffered in silence anymore. How didn't I see this? The most important thing and I didn't see it.

With a growl, I swung my fist into the door frame, pain flaring up my arm. It was a good pain though, a distraction, from the frustration, the _anger,_ I felt. I hated myself for not noticing anything, for being unable to help when it was needed. I needed to get the anger out somehow, and I refused to let Tom see, refused to let him think he had caused any of it, or that he couldn't trust me, because of my emotions.

The pain radiated around my hand, throbbing in time with my breaths. I cradled it close, wishing I could do something similar to Tom. Let him know that I was there, that I wouldn't let him fall through the cracks, that I'd keep him _protected._ But he wouldn't let me, he didn't have any idea about how to deal with comfort or affection. His wife had even taken that from him, his ability to ask for _emotional comfort._ He managed it with his son, but anyone older than that and he didn't know what to do. Hell he didn't even know how to have a _conversation_ anymore! He looked terrified to talk to us, like we would hurt him for talking. _Talking._

Helplessly, I slid down the wall, curling into a ball and _sobbing_ into my knees. I just felt so helpless, and I didn't have a clue on what to do to help the situation. There didn't seem to be anything I could do, apart from being supportive of my friend. But I wanted to do _more,_ I wanted to hold him close, prove to him that things could get better. That love was real, that there was such a thing as good relationships. That he was deserving on love and affection, and that there was _nothing_ wrong with him. His wife was in the wrong, not him. That she was the one with the problems, and that he was safe now. He didn't need to be scared of us, because we were the good guys here.

I wanted to prove to Tom that relationships worked. That I loved him. That he didn't need to be anything but himself to be accepted. That he was worthy, and didn't need to be so scared all the time. I wanted him to know that he could be safe with us, with _me._


	95. Chapter 95

92 Tom's POV

I swear I wasn't having panic attacks, I wasn't. I just, was scared. I was just scared. I wasn't used... I didn't usually do this. I never did this. I didn't make decisions, didn't take risks, I did as told, asked before I made a move, I didn't just decide for everyone. It wasn't right, I was going to get it wrong, I always got it wrong and I worried everyone and angered them and if I did that too often they would turn on me like she did and I couldn't take that again please I couldn't let them go the same way I needed them on my side I needed them to like me.

"Shh, shhh, it's alright Tom. It's all alright. Take a deep breath if you can." Dougie instructed, "Follow my breaths, copy what I'm doing. Breathe in... breathe out... breathe in... breathe out."

I barely managed to follow his instructions, barely managed to calm my breaths, but it didn't stop the panic, it never stopped the panic. I was so damn scared all the time. So, so scared.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I whispered weakly, trying to calm the shakes, the hysteria.

"Nothing to be sorry about, nothing at all." Dougie smiled weakly, his hand still on my shoulder, always there, like he wanted me to know that he was next to me.

"I'm sorry, please, please don't hate me." I couldn't deal with him hating me too, couldn't stand the thought of anyone hating me as much as my wife did. They'd all been so nice to me recently, so damn nice, I couldn't have them turn cruel as well. Even when I fucked up, I didn't want them to hate me.

"I don't, none of us could possibly ever hate you, no matter what you do. We understand that this is hard to deal with, and that you're going to have a few panics, but that's normal. It's really, really normal, and we're all here to support you through it." Dougie sounded so sincere, but how could he be sure of that? How could he possibly know that? I screwed up so often, I couldn't even make dinner without freaking out, how could he possibly promise that I wasn't going to eventually break that one last straw?

"H-How, how can you?" I didn't understand, I didn't understand his faith in this, didn't understand any of it.

"Because you never gave up on me, none of you did." Dougie answered simply, "You guys, while I was ill, all rallied around me in every way you possibly could. You never complained when I got panicky, or when I wasn't 100%, or when I was having a bad day. You treated me like you always did, and I know you never got angry with me for it. You never got angry, never got tired, and never acted like I was a burden. Why wouldn't we do the same to you? Yeah the situation is a little different, but it's still all about recovering who you were, and getting back to how you used to be, and why would we ever begrudge you that? Or get angry when something scares you?"

"Be-because she-" I started, Dougie cut me off.

"We are not her in any way, shape or form. We're your friends, and we love you, all of you. We're not here to cut you down, or treat you like dirt. We're here to help, to support, and to accept you in any way you are. So you're having a hard time, doesn't mean you're less of a person, or less in need of respect and love. It's lonely enough going through something like this, let alone if you have to do it completely alone." Dougie's hand slid down my arm, holding onto my hand, "Tom, we are not your wife, or anybody but your friends. We'll be here through it all, judgement free. You can scream and cry out, have as many panic attacks as you want, can swear and break things, go completely insane if you want, and we'll still be here, fighting your corner. That you can be sure of."

"T-Thank you." I whispered, unsure what else to say to that. What could you say to that?

"Nothing to be thanked for. Now, how about if we go back inside and finish dinner? Maybe phone Natasha afterwards, I think it'd be best if you had a talk with her soon." Dougie suggested, I nodded, letting him help me stand up.


	96. Chapter 96

93 Harry's POV

Tom looked fragile as he walked into the room, face drawn and paler than usual. His hands were mildly shaking too, like aftershocks from his panic attack. I was quite glad that Dougie was walking next to him, I would have been scared that he'd collapse without anyone to hold him up.

"Dada!" Buzz immediately reached out for his dad, Tom automatically picked him up, I had to stop the urge to support his hands, he didn't look strong enough to hold the baby.

"Sorry Buzz," Tom kissed his hair, before looking up at me, "Sorry, I... I wasn't feeling well." He cringed as he said it, like he was still expecting me to lash out.

"Nothing to say sorry for, you feeling better now?" I squeezed the shoulder Buzz wasn't leaning on, Tom nodded weakly, leaning his head against his son's. I wasn't sure if he was rocking from side to side to comfort Buzz or himself.

"I'm glad." I smiled, "Want to finish some dinner now, or shall we put it in the fridge for later?"

"I," Tom didn't look sure, biting at his lip.

"Whatever you want Tom, there's no wrong answer." Dougie encouraged, rubbing Tom's back. A look passed between them, Tom's questioning, Dougie's encouraging. Probably to do with their conversation from just now.

"I, I'm going to phone Natasha. She... I think, I think I need to talk to her." Tom answered eventually, letting out a shaky breath.

"Alright, I'll keep your plate in the fridge, you do whatever you need. Want us to take Buzz for a bit, he's finished dinner, and Peppa Pig is starting soon." I deliberately didn't hold out my hands, giving Tom the choice, not forcing anything from him.

"Thank you, I'll... I'll be able to take him to bed though." Tom handed Buzz over, who made a small sound of protest, but didn't kick up too much of a fuss.

"Take your time, we can put him to bed if you need to talk for a while, it's not problem." I waved him off, it wouldn't have been a problem in the slightest. I'd never actually put Buzz to bed, but I was sure we could handle it, I had looked after my nephew and niece enough times to know what to do. And if Tom needed breathing space, or at least time to talk in depth, then I wasn't about to deny him it.

"Do what you need to do Tom, don't worry about anything else." Dougie encouraged, "We can look after him if you need us to."

"T-Thank you." Tom still didn't look like he had any idea on how to deal with our words, but at least he accepted them this time, "I, I'm going to phone Natasha now." he edged out of the room, like he wasn't sure that this was actually alright.

When he was safely out of earshot, Dougie let out a harsh breath, posture slumping. "That was not fun in the slightest." He sighed.

"Looks like you did good though. Like you calmed him down reasonably well, and got him to phone Natasha for help, which is more than what we could do." I put my free arm around him, bringing him in close.

"It was hard, I've never... I just said what I would have liked to hear, back when things were bad, right from the beginning." Dougie sighed again, burying his face in my shirt.

"If I'd known, I would have told you." I hadn't had any idea on what to say at first, when Dougie came home. I felt like I had been walking on egg shells, so unsure of what exactly I was supposed to be doing with him. Those first few weeks had been tough to say the least.

"I know, and I know that you were trying your best, and I appreciate it. I just don't want that to happen to Tom too, I'd rather he didn't have to go through that, without being told that what he's feeling and how he's acting is fine, is actually _normal._ He needed to know that we weren't going to get angry, or leave him, for anything he reacted badly to." Dougie whispered, "And even though we have been saying it, I think he needed to hear it at a time of stress. Like, he needed to hear it at the right time."

At that point, Buzz decided to shout out "Peppa!" very loudly, interrupting the moment.

"Alright, alright, we'll watch Peppa Pig." I laughed, despite being kicked in the ribs by a tiny, yet powerful, foot, "You take him to the front room, I'll check up on Danny." Someone had to at least tell him that Tom was okay, before he kicked himself too hard for all of this.


	97. Chapter 97

94 Dougie's POV

I let Harry go off to find Danny, after he had explained that the poor guy was getting really, really stressed about all of this, settling myself and Buzz on the sofa, putting on Peppa Pig for him to watch.

It was actually quite calming to watch, if I was being honest. I felt myself relax as the colourful characters worried about a fire station or something, the warm weight of Buzz in my lap, his presence a small comfort too. It was what I needed after that conversation with Tom, a cool down time, where I didn't have to think, I could just cuddle a baby and watch inane cartoons, letting everybody else sort themselves out.

I didn't mean that harshly, it was just... I wasn't very _good_ with emotional conversations, or giving out advice, even when I half knew what I was talking about. I was always worried I was saying it wrong, or acting like I knew everything when I didn't.

And, talking about what happened to me, and my own recovery, it was exhausting. Just remembering going through that myself, feeling so alone and scared all the time, trying desperately to figure out how to be myself again, it brought it all back up. All those memories of the bad days, the worse days, and the absolute _worst_ day, and everything in between. I hated remembering, thinking back to it, even when it was necessary. And talking about it with someone who was going through worse, well, let's just say that it was tough. It took a lot out of me just to talk to my therapist, or Harry, about how I felt, but talking to someone else, offering support and advice about their own issues? It was worse, especially when they weren't in the best states of minds. I wished I could write it all out first, but it was near impossible to do that, as conversations like that weren't planned in advance. I wished they were though, so I was prepared, and knew what I was saying.

Soon, we were joined by Harry, who curled up around us, and Danny soon after that. He looked almost as bad as Tom did, freckles standing out sharply against his washed out skin, cradling his hand to his chest a bit too. Judging by the redness of his knuckles, he'd punched a wall again. Danny hadn't done that since his dad had left his mum, nearly ten years ago.

He didn't say anything about how he was feeling though, instead deciding to take Buzz in his arms, holding him like a human teddy bear. Buzz didn't seem to mind much, leaning himself against Danny's chest and watching his show quietly, like this was utterly normal. Though, I guess for him, there wasn't much of a 'normal' to be had. Nothing really spoke of normality, what with things changing so constantly around him. Poor kid probably learnt to adapt to whoever was with him at the time.

Tom though, he didn't turn back up again, so it was up to us to take Buzz to bed. It was no problem, actually quite fun with three of us, making huge fusses over the baby, making a mess of the bathroom, which Harry dutifully cleared up. I feared we were going to make Buzz too hyped up to sleep, but once Danny got him dried, dressed and in bed, reading a story to him, he dropped off in no time, curled up sweetly in his blanket, chubby hand holding onto one of his new toys.

It was only when we went to go back downstairs again that we heard Tom in his room, speaking quietly like he thought we wouldn't hear him that way.

"I-I'll try. It's just... it feels wrong, to do it. To decide for others. I'm not... I haven't done it in a long time." he was whispering, clearly still on the phone to his therapist. And by the sounds of it, opening up a bit. Good for him, really trying to open up. That was arguably the toughest part of therapy, opening up to someone about your feelings. Especially after a big emotional upheaval he'd just gone through this evening.

"Come on Doug, let him talk in private." Harry gentle pulled me and Danny away, before we heard anymore.


	98. Chapter 98

95 Tom's POV

"Okay, so I think that maybe it was asking a bit much of you to make a decision that affects everybody around you, no matter how small of a decision it is, so I think we should try a different approach." Natasha paused for a few seconds, thinking things through.

"What kind of approach?" I didn't know if I liked the sound of a different approach to things. But at the same time, I couldn't carry on like this. I couldn't be scared like this, I couldn't keep on freaking out over everything. I really needed help to deal with this, before things went really wrong for me.

But I was so scared, I didn't know if I could. Nothing seemed to go right, everything was so difficult to deal with, and it just felt so much easier to carry on in the way I was used to. I knew what I was doing when I was following the same old routine, the one I had been following for years. I was safe. I knew what I was doing, how to deal with it, and exactly where I stood. I didn't have to talk to others, make any decision for myself, I could just follow orders.

That wasn't what everyone wanted though. They wanted me more independent, able to look after my son by myself, be the old me. I didn't even remember what the old me was like, but that was what they wanted, and thought was best. And, if I was honest, I did want to be happier, and calmer, instead of like this all the time. Scared of being left again, treated like dirt. I wanted to be able to look after Buzz myself, to be the good dad he deserved.

"How about if we start small. Small decisions about yourself, maybe about Buzz too, if you're up to it." Natasha suggested, "As in, you decide what Buzz eats, and what you eat. Or, or you buy something for yourself, something that you really want. When was the last time you did anything you really wanted to do?"

"I, I don't know." I didn't have a clue, really, really didn't know.

"Okay, well, is there anything you really want? Or something you want to do?" Natasha asked, I still didn't know. It had been so long since I had considered myself in any sort of capacity further than what I was doing for others, I didn't think there was anything I could remember wanting.

"I don't know, I really... I'm sorry, I don't know." I didn't want to ruin her plans but I didn't have any ideas! There wasn't anything I could think of! I didn't do things for myself!

"It's okay, you're allowed to not know. Not knowing is normal in your situation," I wish people would stop saying what was normal for people like me, "How about if you have a think for a while, consider things you enjoy, or at least remember enjoying. Maybe you could come up with a few ideas for that, and we can discuss together if anything seems appealing to you now."

"So I just, have to think about what I like?" I asked, it seemed too simple.

"For now, yes. And then we'll figure out if anything still holds appeal for you now, or at least feels worthy to explore again." Natasha answered, "If it helps, I remember that you used to love playing video games, and watching films, especially ones like Back To The Future. Writing songs used to bring you a lot of comfort too. Anything like that would be a good place to start."

"I'll, I'll have a think." It was all I could do, I had no other option, or other idea of what to do with myself.

"Great, and remember the key is to think of things you enjoy, and will make you happy. It's not about making others happy, it's about you. It'll be hard, but it's all a part of the process of recovering yourself." Natasha explained, "You can call me whenever you want if you need more advice, and can talk to your friends if you need inspiration."

"I'll, I'll think about it." talking about things I enjoyed with Danny, Harry and Dougie felt like a bad idea, like an incredibly stupid idea at the least. Every one of my nerve endings screamed that it was a bad plan, a very, very bad plan.


	99. Chapter 99

96 Danny's POV

"I like to write songs with you." Tom suddenly blurted out, not two days after his discussion with Natasha. The sentence was followed by him cringing into himself, like he was regretting speaking.

"Good, because I like writing songs with you too." I wasn't sure how to respond, I mean, did I encourage him? Did I get him to continue? Offer to go off and write songs with him right now? None of that felt right. Maybe just saying that I liked writing songs with him was a good idea?

"You, you do?" Tom glanced up with wide, slightly scared eyes. Like I was going to laugh at him, tell him that I was lying, that I hated writing songs with him, or hell, doing _anything_ with him. The thought squeezed my chest uncomfortably.

"'Course I do, it's great fun." I smiled, hoping it looked encouraging.

"Oh, o-okay. Thanks." Tom took a few seconds to think, "I, I like to play guitar. And piano sometimes. Just, just for fun. And not, not to write any songs." Again, he looked scared to say it. How long had it been since Tom had expressed an opinion? Or admitted to enjoying something? Too long, too damn long, judging by the way he was struggling to say it.

"So do I." I nodded, trying not to give him anything that would sway his responses one way or the other. I didn't want to freak him out, or push him into saying something to try and please me. If we were going to have a conversation about this, and talk about the things we enjoyed, then I wanted Tom to open up as much as he wanted, or felt like he could.

"Is there anything else you enjoy?" I asked, not feeling like that was swaying him one way or another, just giving him an opening to talk.

"I, I think I... I think I like to... play, play video games." All the time, Tom was glancing at me, between me and his hands. Was he _shaking?_ My God, he was actually _shaking,_ just telling me that he _enjoyed_ something.

"Well you used to, so if you want, we can get out the old consoles and you can have a play around some day." no specific dates, no pushing him, letting him know that he was definitely in charge here. It was Tom's decision entirely, he could do what he wanted, whenever he wanted, if he wanted to do it. We would help him, but we wouldn't push him, or mock him for it.

"That... I'll think about it." Tom shifted uncomfortably, I wanted nothing more than to hug him close and tell him that it was okay, that he could admit to enjoying something without fear of being put down for it. He was a human being, he had things he enjoyed, and things he didn't, there was no shame it in, none at all.

"Let us know, whenever you're ready." I couldn't help it, I had to reach out, hold his hand in my own, let him know that I supported him. I supported him through _all_ of this.

"Thanks." Tom whispered shyly, "I, I'm not sure what else I enjoy. I don't... I can't really remember." He couldn't remember? Dear God, what had his wife told him? How long had she banned him from doing anything he enjoyed? To completely forget the things he liked to do? It must have been years, years and years. The thought alone made my blood _boil._

"That's alright, would you like to talk about it, see if we can come up with more options?" I'd be more than happy to help, in fact, I was _desperate._ We were so helpless, _I_ felt so helpless, I wanted to do _something_ to help, _anything_ at all. Even if it was just talking to Tom, helping him to open up, or get used to talking again.

Tom hesitated, then nodded. "If, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind in the slightest," I just wanted to help, that was all, I just wanted to _help._

"Now, where do you want to start?" I could remember so much, almost everything, about Tom, I could give him huge lists of things he used to love, and I'd do everything in my power to help him find joy again.


	100. Chapter 100

97 Harry's POV

"What are they doing?" I asked, trying to watch Tom and Danny as subtly as I could, but Dougie was just that much closer to the door.

"They're talking!" Dougie grinned back at me, "Talking about things that Tom enjoys!" he bounced back over to me.

"Really?" I couldn't, could they _really_ be talking about that, so soon after Tom's phone call to Natasha? Could he have already gotten up the courage? Wow.

"Looks like it!" Dougie continued to grin, "They were talking about Star Wars, and how Tom used to enjoy watching it, so they have to be having at talk about Tom enjoying himself!"

I breathed a sigh of relief, so glad that this was happening, even if we weren't part of the conversation. Tom desperately needed to hear that he could do things that he enjoyed without being treated like a criminal for doing so. If he was actually thinking about things to do for himself, and actually _talking_ about it, that had to be a good sign, a sign that he was starting to improve. Or at least, was starting to think about himself again.

Though, I would have liked to be part of that conversation, see what he was saying, figure out how we could help. Danny wasn't the only one who wanted to help Tom find himself again, we were desperate too, and whatever Tom wanted, we would do. Even if it was ridiculous, or slightly insane. If Tom wanted it, and wanted to do it for himself, or had to do it for his own therapy, then we would jump to help, however we could.

"Harry, I know what you're thinking, that Tom's going to rush in and immediately know what he wants to do now, and we can jump right into it. But that's not how this is going to go." Dougie sighed, putting a hand on my chest comfortingly.

"I know Doug, I just... I want to get stuck in." I did know that we couldn't jump straight away, that we had to wait for Tom's signal, for him to decide for himself what he wanted to do, if anything. and, we had to wait for him to ask for our support. He had done well with the Natural History Museum trip, but that was one time, and asking didn't get any easier, I knew that too.

"Yeah, me too. But we have to be patient, okay? Let him come to us, let him decide for himself if he wants help or company, or anything. He may want to be by himself at first, in case he somehow 'fails' at whatever he's doing. It's one thing to start doing things that make you happy again, it's another to do it in front of others." Dougie would know, he'd been _so_ unsure at first, constantly worried that he was doing things wrong, that he was making a spectacle of himself. He never had been, had always done _brilliantly,_ but he had found it so hard to deal with things at first. It had been hard to watch, even harder to let him deal with it in his own ways too, but we had worked through it together.

Though, I guess Tom didn't really have anyone he felt like he could properly confide in. He didn't have a husband, or a wife, who would listen and support him. Had, in fact, had his wife treat him like dirt and put him in this situation, had stopped him from expressing his feelings and his own wants. It had to be hard to deal with that, and learn to talk and be open with people again.

"I get it, don't have to like it though." It had felt easier with Dougie somehow, maybe because things were slightly more... not straight forward, but maybe... more cause to effect? I wasn't sure how to put it, but things with Dougie had felt different to this.

Then again, that was probably because I hadn't treated Dougie like shit for years.

"None of us like it, all of us want to swoop in and save him, but we have to be respectful of Tom's pace. Let him come to us, and let him figure things out for himself. He's making great progress by talking about these things with someone, just let him do the rest of it at his own pace." Dougie sounded knowledgeable, and just a tad bit saddened too. I wrapped my arms around him in response, hating the look of sadness on his face, especially thanks to the subject matter.

"His pace, nothing faster." I promised, kissing his hair and burying my face in it.


	101. Chapter 101

**perfectfiresky - Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it! :D**

98 Dougie's POV

Tom talked with Danny for hours about things he would like to do again, but when Buzz interrupted them by waking up in the middle, the conversation was ended, and not picked back up again. Tom didn't ask to try anything, or spoke of anything he fancied doing, he just... went on like normal. I expected it to happen if I'm honest, and always knew that he wouldn't immediately jump into things again, but I couldn't help but feel a bit sad that he wasn't doing something immediately.

I knew why, of course. It was scary, trying to jump back into your old activities, like nothing had happened. Like you hadn't stopped doing them years ago. I had struggled a lot with this part, hadn't really had any idea on what to do with myself. I was lucky though, Harry had been great at gently encouraging me to do things again, Tom though, he only had us. And he wasn't that receptive to our encouragements.

At least he still kept to his weekly hour of play with Buzz. At least he still did that. Even if that hour was spent watching him round around the garden. Tom was stopping and relaxing for a few minutes, he was choosing to stop, to take a break, though he probably didn't view it as a break. It was important though, very important. Every choice he made for himself was important, even when he had been convinced to do it by his therapist. It was all a learning curve, and the more choices Tom made for himself, the better chance he had at making the bigger choices later.

And in fact, we didn't have to wait too long for that (slightly) bigger choice to come along. Tom had his usual therapy session with Natasha, and then just a few days later, we woke up to find both he and Buzz were wearing matching shirts. Actual, matching shirts. Identical in fact. White with black polka-dots on. They had never been seen in around here before, never. Tom always dressed differently to Buzz, always in more practical, sensible clothes, while Buzz was in bright colours. They had never matched before, not once in Buzz's entire life.

That had to mean something, that had to be something Tom had chosen, something that he had wanted to do. By the way Danny was grinning, it was.

"Aw, you're the spitting image of each other." Harry managed to speak first, making it sound light and encouraging.

"I wanted," Tom started, then paused briefly, "I wanted to have us matching for once. We never... we've never matched." He continued, running his hand through Buzz's hair, as if to put it into place, despite the fact that it already was. He wasn't looking at us, was watching his son instead, but it didn't matter, he was stating what he wanted, was trying for it, that was all that mattered.

"Looks good on you both." Danny grinned, before starting to serve up his own breakfast. It was always best to do some gentle encouraging, then act like nothing was out of the ordinary. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Tom had just dressed himself and his son in matching shirts, something a lot of parents did, it wasn't news worthy, not really. It was a good thing for Tom himself, but it couldn't be treated as if he had just climbed Everest, even if it felt like it had to him.

"T-Thanks." Tom whispered, shifting uncomfortably. He really didn't seem all too comfortable with this, even though it was something so small in the grand scheme of things. But he was trying, and that was the main thing, trying was always the start to getting better. That's why my therapist told me, it doesn't matter if you fail, because you tried, and trying is always the start to getting better.

Tom never managed to look comfortable the whole day, at times he looked as if he wanted to climb out of his own skin. He was trying though, and that was the main thing in the end. It didn't matter that he only relaxed when Buzz was in bed, that judging by the way he was fiddling with the shirt, he wanted it off too, he was trying, and trying was so important. So damn important. He was being brave, trying new things, figuring out where his comfort zone lay, of course he was allowed to feel uncomfortable and out of sorts. It was how recovery worked.

But he was trying, Tom was trying, who could ask for more than that


	102. Chapter 102

99 Tom's POV

This was wrong, this was all so damn _wrong._ I shouldn't... this wasn't... it was _ridiculous_ to do this. To match clothes with a baby. Who did this? Who in their right minds thought that this was a good, fun idea? It was stupid, and incredibly infantile to try. Dressing my son in the shirt I was wearing, what was I thinking? That I wanted to be mocked and ridiculed, that I wanted to show that I wasn't mature enough to look after a child, that I wanted to prove that my son was mine, stake a claim on him? It was obvious he was mine, we looked too alike, I didn't need to do something as stupid as to dress us alike. I looked like a such an idiot now. Danny, Harry and Dougie probably couldn't wait for us to leave so they could start laughing at me and my stupid wish.

It truly was a stupid wish too, why had I ever thought it to be a good idea? Because I'd had it in my head for so long? Because I had _dreamed_ about it several times? It was a pathetic wish, a stupid idea, nobody actually did this and thought it was a good plan. It wasn't cute, or sweet. It was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

As soon as Buzz was bathed and in his pyjamas, I felt better. We didn't match anymore, didn't look _stupid._ I looked like a normal adult again, and Buzz looked like a baby, like things should have been. I shouldn't have put him in a shirt anyway, he was a baby, what was I dressing him up for? I should have just dressed him normally, shouldn't have bothered with any of this.

I'd just... I'd thought it would be nice. I really had dreamt of this in the past, ever since my wife fell pregnant with Buzz. I had had this mental image of having a son, and of dressing him identically to me. It had all looked so sweet in my head, so... so _family-like._ I hadn't told anybody about it, not even my wife, in fear of being ridiculed. But I had still dreamed of it, dreamed of choosing an outfit for myself in the morning, and picking a matching one for my son, of people thinking that we were cute, that the father-son connection was for all to see.

The reality hadn't lived up to expectations at all. I could see now, it was all just a silly idea. A silly plan from a silly man, who didn't have the first _clue_ on how to actually do anything sweet for his child. I should have done something different, something more productive, enjoyable, _safe._

But I had thought that _this_ was safe, that this was a safe option. I wasn't hurting anyone with an _outfit,_ wasn't affecting anybody else's lives. It had felt safe! It had felt like it was something I could do for myself, without getting in anybody else's way, like I had with dinner! But it hadn't worked, I could feel the stares, feel the judgemental looks, almost _hear_ my wife's laughter in my head.

 _"Pathetic Tom, absolutely pathetic!"_

 _"Did you really think that this would be a good thing? That you wouldn't look like you're desperate to prove you're a father?"_

 _"They're all laughing at you downstairs you know, they've been holding it in all day, they_ ** _saw_** _your mistake, they'll never let you live it down."_

I was shaking with the sound of her voice, feeling it ringing in my head, her disapproval obvious, even though she wasn't here to see it, and didn't even know I had attempted it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I whispered to the walls, desperate to make it stop, to make it go away! I wouldn't do it again, I swore I wouldn't do it again! I knew it was a mistake now, I knew not to try again, I didn't want the laughter, I had gone so long without the laughter, I couldn't hear it again now!

But it wouldn't go away, no matter what I tried to block it out, the noise of it continued to echo. Even Buzz seemed disapproving of me, getting extremely unsettled as I tried to read him a story.

"Hey, let me take over, you look exhausted." Danny interrupted, crouching in front of me with a kind smile.

"I-It's fine. I-I can do it." I could read my son a story, I could do this, I could really do this. I wasn't, I wasn't incapable of this, really, I could do one thing right today, I could, I really could.

"I know you can, but I don't think you're well, let me put him down tonight, get yourself some rest." Danny was saying it so kindly, I wanted desperately to give in, to lay under the covers and hide from the world, but I couldn't let my son down again. I couldn't keep on foisting him off on others.

"I'm supposed to be the one to tell him a story." I whispered, I did it every night, and I did it _well._ It was the one thing I was good at, the one thing I looked forward to every day. I couldn't fail at that too, not after this week, I needed a win, I really needed the win!


	103. Chapter 103

100 Danny's POV

Tom was struggling tonight, really, really struggling. I couldn't leave him to it, not when I could see how badly he was shaking through the baby monitor. He needed help, and I couldn't not give it to him.

"Danny, it may not be the best idea." Dougie warned, grabbing my hand before I could leave.

"I can't just him leave him to suffer." I could see it on the monitor, Tom was near tears, or a panic attack, or _something_ like that. How could I leave him to fall to pieces? Especially in front of his son? I couldn't! I couldn't just leave him like that!

"I know that, but he's scared, today hasn't been good for him. He may just need to work it out by himself for a while." Dougie advised, "Or he needs a minute to feel useful, like he's doing something good, because he didn't feel good today. Let him have it, you have to let him have that."

I could do that, I could definitely do that, anything I could do, anything at all. But I had to help, somehow, some way, I couldn't just sit here and watch him suffer in silence. This wasn't him feeling useful, this was him spiralling.

"I'm the one who's supposed to tell him a story." Tom whispered as I tried to help, his entire body was shivering. His face so damn pale he looked like a ghost. Had just wearing a shirt affected him this badly? It was just a clothing choice, shared between him and his son, it surely couldn't affect him that badly...

Yet it seemed like it had freaked him out horrendously. So much that he was struggling to read his son a story to send him off to sleep. My heart broke into pieces for him.

"Alright, well how about if I give this little one a cuddle, and you still read the story?" I wasn't about to mention that he was shaking like a leaf, not wanting to point it out, in case he took it as a sign of weakness.

"I, I wanted..." Tom glanced down at Buzz, who was starting to look more and more agitated in Tom's shaking arms. The kid was clearly worried for his dad, but obviously didn't have a clue on what was happening.

Maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to take the kid off him, Buzz wasn't good at being separated from Tom when he wasn't well. But at the same time, he was getting so agitated he was never going to go to sleep. And if he didn't sleep, then Tom was going to be up with him all night, and then he wouldn't have a chance to calm down, and none of this would end well.

Damn it, I had just wanted to help, now I felt like I had stepped into a mine field.

"Just this once, alright? Just this once. You're still reading the story, I'm just holding Buzz for you." I kept a small distance, not touching either of them, trying to look as supportive as I possibly could.

Tom thought for a few seconds nervously, before sliding Buzz over. The poor kid made a small noise of distress, then realised that I wasn't going anywhere with him, that Tom was still with him, so he calmed a bit. I made sure to hold him as safely and firmly as I could, so he knew that he was safe, and that someone was okay in the situation. He needed to know that there was safety, that things would be fine, the world wasn't falling to pieces. Poor kid probably thought the world was ending on a daily basis, and I wished I could explain it all to him somehow, so he knew what was going on, but that just wasn't possible. I wished it was though, if not just to make things a bit easier, to take some guilt away from Tom's shoulders. He was having a freak out over an outfit choice, Lord knew what he was feeling over Buzz right now.

Soon, Tom regained himself enough to finish the story. His voice still shook, but he managed to make it through, and Buzz managed to relax a little, his little head starting to get heavier on my chest. I picked the child up, putting down in his cot, letting Tom tuck him in, making sure he knew that he was still in charge of this. I wasn't intruding, just helping, not taking over.

"Goodnight Buzz." I ran a finger over the child's cheek though, unable to help but give him some affection.

"Goodnight Buzz," Tom hesitated, looking at me for a second, assessing, "I love you." He whispered, before pressing a kiss to blonde hair, identical to the shade Tom had been as a teenager.

Buzz closed his eyes, relaxing into his mattress, so we took our cue to leave, leaving the door open just a crack. I stopped Tom gently before he left.

"Go and get some rest, it's been a long day." I smiled gently at him, trying to be encouraging, not commanding.

"There's things to do." Tom argued weakly.

"They'll be there in the morning, there's nothing major to do right now. Go and have a lay down, it'll do you some good." I wanted to say that he looked shattered, was tempted to say he looked ill to try and convince him, but resisted, knowing it wouldn't end well.

Tom hesitated again, but again, gave in, heading towards his room, closing the door softly behind him, an air of defeat hanging around him.


	104. Chapter 104

101 Tom's POV

I didn't want to go to bed, but I was _desperate_ to hide away. Desperate to get away from all of this, the voices screaming in my head, the panic that I couldn't shake, and everything in between.

I was _so_ exhausted, so damn exhausted. Today hadn't been good, today had been _awful._ And it was all over a bloody shirt, a damn shirt that shouldn't affect me like it did. It was just a shirt, that matched my sons, and yet I couldn't stop feeling eyes on me all day, my wife's laughter and taunts echoing through my head every time I caught sight of Buzz. It was just a shirt, just a damn _shirt._

 _"Then you failed to read your son a bedtime story. Honestly, having Danny step in was pathetic. How could you possibly fail so badly that Danny had to step in to hold your child? Buzz is going to start hating you soon, forgetting that your his father. You'll be nothing more than the man who lives in the house."_

I closed the door to my room in defeat, sliding down the wood and curling into a ball. Everything felt shaky, too close and _wrong._ Everything was wrong, none of this was right at all. Nothing I had done today felt right, not in the slightest. I had been _sure_ that someone was going to start laughing at any second, start taunting, start treating me like I was incredibly stupid. I felt incredibly stupid, and absolutely pathetic.

Matching outfits with a baby, idiotic plan. Such an idiotic plan. I was supposed to be proving that I could make decisions for myself, and that I was an actual _adult,_ not a stupid boy with ridiculous whims. I deserved to be shouted at, ridiculed for this.

 _"Who says they're not ridiculing you downstairs? Who says they're not down there right now, laughing hysterically at your stupid idea? They probably are you know, they're laughing and they're never going to see you as an adult ever again. You've just proven yourself to be a very, very pathetic man."_

I had, I had just proven it. It had been such a mistake, such a stupid action. I should have left it alone, should have ignored that urge and done something else. Something that only affected me, only had to do with me, that was all. Not my son, not my band mates, nothing.

I should have done some song writing, or something like that. Something _useful._ Not fanciful. That would have been better, it would have been productive, and so much better than what I did. What kind of father chose to do something for his own pathetic desires, instead of doing something productive and good with his time? I should have done something else, something productive, not decided that an outfit was on the top of my list of priorities.

But it had felt like such a simple decision the other day. It wasn't intruding on anybody else, wasn't going to affect anybody. It was just an outfit. Outfits could be screwed up, but it didn't affect anybody but the wearer.

 _"And you just forced your son to look like you all day."_ I had, I had and it was such a mistake. _"Who would want to look like you all day? You're such a failure. It's bad enough that he looks like you facially, and then you decided to draw attention to your likeness. Like anybody wants to be reminded that you procreated."_

I wouldn't do it again, I swore I would never do it again. We would never dress similarly ever again. _"Don't even think of dressing him in those geeky tops either. He's not like you, and it's embarrassing to see him parading around in geek shirts he doesn't understand."_ I wouldn't, I wouldn't. I didn't even have any for him, had never bought any. I certainly hadn't got any for myself either, they were all gone, all hidden away so I couldn't get to them.

I wouldn't do this again, wouldn't do any of this again. I wouldn't chose anything like this, not after today. If Natasha insisted, I'd think of something else, something less ridiculous, less likely to backfire. I wasn't going to do this again, never, ever again.


	105. Chapter 105

102 Harry's POV

Tom looked _exhausted_ the next day, practically dead on his feet, like he hadn't slept a wink all night. But that didn't stop him, he was already cleaning and getting on with jobs with more energy than usual somehow. The only difference was that he was doing everything one handed, as Buzz was being held in his other. The poor child was refusing to leave Tom's arms, tiny hands clinging to his top, head curled into his shoulder. It wasn't a shock really, after Tom's actions at bedtime yesterday, but it was still quite worrying to see.

Little boys like Buzz should have been running around, happy and energetic, not curled in their parents arms all day out of fear, or worry, or whatever he was feeling. It wasn't right.

It also wasn't right that said parent was rushing around the house, desperately acting like nothing was wrong, when it was obvious that he was internally panicking. But I didn't understand _why,_ why did Tom feel this way after yesterday? Why did he feel the need to be even more excessive when it came to cleaning and tidying, why did just matching an outfit with his son have to freak him out so much? It was an outfit, not a death sentence. Nobody had been hurt, nobody had been upset, it had just been a matching outfit. It shouldn't have freaked him out like it had, it didn't make sense!

"Nothing makes sense in the depressed mind." Dougie sighed, worriedly watching the oppositely dressed Fletcher's hoover the front room floor. How Tom was managing to do everything one handed, I didn't know, but he was.

"Yeah, but this isn't right, surely." I didn't understand, I wanted to _understand._

"My guess is that he feels like he needs to prove himself, after yesterday. He clearly wasn't comfortable matching with Buzz, so now he's proving himself." Dougie explained, stabbing a fork into his boiled egg, the metal tines clanking against the plate.

"That wife of his fucked up his mind far too much." Danny grumbled, "No-one should feel guilty for something as simple as an outfit." He too stabbed his fork through his food, roughly cutting his bacon in half and chewing it angrily.

"The way he was yesterday, he was just trying to read a _story_ and he could barely get his words out he was so stressed. I thought he was going to throw up he looked so ill with it. All over a bloody _outfit,_ not even a mistake, or something supposedly going wrong." Danny continued to grumble, hands tightening so much around his cutlery it had to hurt, "And we are powerless to help. We can only encourage and support him, not get to the bottom of this and sort him out ourselves. Or hunt down that... that _woman_ and force her to see what she has done to him."

"There's only so much we can do Danny, we aren't trained in this, we don't know how to help, not properly." I sighed, wishing we could help. I wanted to help, more than anything. I wanted to pick Tom up and take away all the bad thoughts, the bad habits, give him his confidence back, but I couldn't. I didn't know how, none of us did. It was awful to stand back and watch, but what else could we do? We didn't know what to do in this situation!

"But we know Tom! We know what he's like, who he really is! Why can't we do something to help him? Why can't we do something to help him get back to that? Why do we have to constantly stand back and watch him suffer?!" Danny barely managed to not shout.

"Because it's _his_ problems, and we can't force him into things he doesn't want to do. We'd just be another version of his wife. We had to let _him_ recover himself, not do it for him." Dougie sighed, "My therapist always said that it was _my_ journey, so I had to want it myself. That I could seek support from others, but ultimately do it myself. The same goes for Tom, he's not going to recover if we force him into things, even if he enjoys them. He needs to recover on his terms, not ours, no matter how hard it is to do." he sighed again, "It sucks balls, and is painful as hell to watch, but it's the only things we can do right now."

It was a shit situation, one none of us could tolerate properly, but what else could we do? There wasn't anything we could do, as Dougie said. All we could do was let Tom take the steps he needed to, in his time.

But it was this bit, the bit where he freaked out, that was the hard bit. Seeing him take good steps was great, even when he was stressed. But watching him freak out afterwards, to doubt himself and fall back on what his wife had instilled in him over the years, was the hard bit. We were helpless to do anything, no amount of reassuring was going to do anything here. We had to let Tom work it out himself, no matter how hard it was.


	106. Chapter 106

103 Dougie's POV

My heart broke to see Tom look so frantic and down right _scared_ after the whole matching outfits thing. It was just a matching outfit, and it had completely and utterly thrown him, I was actually scared of what was going on in his head. I knew how hard it was to adjust to doing things for yourself again, regaining your life from too long in the shadows. It was horrendous, possibly one of the hardest things a person could do.

At least when I was recovering, I had had Harry to support me, to tell me that everything was okay and reassure me when I wobbled. Tom didn't have that, well, he did, but he didn't believe us. And I didn't blame him in the slightest for it.

In my darkest times, I had pushed Harry away, convinced that he would leave me because I was too much of a burden, but he'd persistently told me I was being ridiculous, that he loved me, and he had continued to be by my side through everything. Tom didn't have that, Tom didn't have _any_ of that. He had us, sure, but the last few years, he had been living in a world where his own _wife_ treated him like dirt, and made him feel utterly useless and good for nothing. Of course he didn't believe our encouragements, and didn't want to slack in anything, especially after something he viewed as a mistake.

Even knowing the reasons behind it, it wasn't any easier to watch. Especially with little Buzz clinging to his fathers shirt for most of the day, refusing to go anywhere without him. The poor kid looked so worried, more worried than any child should ever have to look. Buzz should have been happy, giggling and learning like any other kid his age, instead he was clinging to his dad, desperate for reassurance, probably scared of losing him like he lost his mother. It wouldn't happen, we all _knew_ that Tom would never leave Buzz, but of course he didn't know that, he was a _baby._

It took days for either of the Fletcher's to calm enough to slow down, to let go of each other. Buzz still followed Tom around the house, but he wasn't clinging desperately, and Tom had slowed down, from frantic to following routine, which I counted as an improvement.

Sadly though, there were no attempts of any other 'fun' activity. Tom stuck rigidly to his routine, isolating himself as best as he could from us without running too far away, and only doing what he thought would please us. I wanted to reach out and hold him, to tell him that everything was okay, but it was pointless. Tom wouldn't believe me, wouldn't believe _any_ of us. He didn't trust anything anybody said to him. How could he, after everything done with his wife? He couldn't, I just wished he could, wished he could make steps towards coming back to himself, wished I knew how to _help_ him. Even with my experience in similar mental places, I had _never_ gone through this, not alone. I had had a support network, one that I trusted. Tom didn't think he had that, and that was the thing he desperately needed.

"We'll talk to Natasha, at the next appointment, see what she says." Harry sighed, stroking my arm.

"She hasn't exactly been helpful to us recently." I sighed back, pressing into his chest. Natasha had only been useful to Tom, which was great, but she hadn't been much help with us recently. None of us knew had to handle _any_ of this, and all she ever said was 'support Tom,' which wasn't helpful.

"If she isn't, then we'll figure something else out, we always do. It's all a case of figuring out what works." Harry kissed my hair, "I didn't know what to do with you at first, I was guessing most of the time and hoping for the best."

"But I _knew_ that you were there for me, which was what I needed from you. Tom needs that from us and he doesn't know that he has it." he didn't even know that he could _talk_ to us, have a normal conversation, how the hell could he know that we supported him through all of this?

"Then we'll make him believe somehow. Stick by him, reassure him whenever he needs it, hug him constantly. Scream it from the rooftops if it's needed." Harry sounded determined, but then again he always did.

"It may come to that." I doubted anything else would be good enough.

"Then that's what we'll do. Whatever he needs to believe that we're there for him, we'll do. It's all we can do." Harry pulled the covers up further, covering us both properly, "Now come on, go to sleep. There's no point in worrying when there's nothing we can do. Let's just get some sleep and see what happens."

"I don't like that idea." I really didn't like the idea of seeing what happens. I wanted plans of action, contingency ideas, anything else we could think of.

"I know you don't, but there's nothing else we _can_ do, not right now. It's gone 2am in the morning, we need sleep, so lets sleep, and wake up refreshed, so we can think of something."


	107. Chapter 107

104 Tom's POV

I was woken up at half six in the morning by Buzz, and so my day started. I got him out of bed, cleaned his teeth, got him dressed in sensible, comfortable clothes, got myself dressed in a more presentable outfit, made breakfast, fed breakfast to Buzz, and started on a few jobs. It was therapy day, and that meant I lost two hours, two hours that I usually spent doing jobs. I had to speed up on therapy days, to make sure everything got done, which was exhausting. Still, it had to be done, I couldn't ignore it, or let things slip. Buzz needed a nice, stable, clean house to live in, and nobody wanted to live in a dirty house anyway, so it had to be done. It was my job to do it, so I did it.

I paid special attention to everything today, making sure it was all spotless, more so than usual. I had to make up for my mistake earlier in the week, couldn't let it define who I was, or let anybody think for even one second that I couldn't do this. I had been doing _so_ well recently, I couldn't let that slip, couldn't let anybody realise that I wasn't cut out for any of this. I had to get it right, had to get it _all_ right, had to get my wife's voice out of my head, stop her mocking my actions.

"Tom, it's time to go." Danny told me, just as I finished packing a bag for Buzz, so he had snacks and things to do while I was in my session. He wasn't really allowed in anymore, Natasha said I was more open when he wasn't in hearing range, and that it was better for him to not be in the room. I didn't like the idea, not one bit. But I didn't argue, I never argued, everyone knew better than me, I had to go along with their orders, there wasn't any other way to go about it, not really.

"Coming." I slung the bag over my shoulder, picking up the baby carrier, where my son was already strapped in, setting him up in the car, letting Harry drive me. He always insisted on driving, and if that wasn't bad enough, everyone else insisted on coming with us. I wished they didn't, really wished they left me to get on with this by myself. It was bad enough that they knew that I was in therapy, let alone forcing them to see the building, talk to my therapist. And that was without the fact that this meant inconveniencing them too, forcing them to come out with me, instead of doing what they wanted to do.

Again, I didn't argue though, what was the point? It would only cause arguments, make everyone uncomfortable, and make us all talk about the issue. If there was one thing I didn't want to do, it was force us all to talk about my issues for a petty reason. If I could, I would erase all their knowledge of this, so they never had to know. But I couldn't, so I did my best to act like it wasn't happening at all, that it was business as usual. I was good at business as usual, had gotten very good at acting like everything was normal, even when I was walking on eggshells daily, feeling like I was nothing I ever did was right.

Soon, the building loomed up ahead, all of us heading down the corridors to Natasha's office, where she greeted us at the door. I took a calming breath, handed my son over to Danny, and went inside, prepared to talk about everything that had happened this week. I didn't want to, didn't want to feel uncomfortable, to talk about how _horrible_ I had felt all week. But, I had to, because that was what was expected of me, what everyone wanted for me. Even though it felt useless, like it was only causing more problems than solutions.

Sighing, I sat down in the normal chair, the door closing behind me, the sound of it clicking into place sounding more like a lock shutting me away.


	108. Chapter 108

105 Danny's POV

Waking up in the morning, I showered and dressed, heading downstairs to find Tom and Buzz already in the kitchen. Buzz was eating his cereal, mostly managing to make a mess of milk over his face and his high chair. Tom was cooking a full fry up breakfast, the bacon sizzling deliciously in the pan, though it didn't really appeal to me right now. I'd learnt to associate fry ups with therapy days, as Tom always made it before his appointment, almost like he was trying to give us a treat, or maybe give us something 'nice' on a stressful day.

I half wished he didn't do it, so he had a little time to himself, but he _insisted,_ and if it was part of his little ritual, and it kept him calm, I wasn't going to argue over it. Tom was perfectly entitled to whatever ritual that made him feel better, especially on therapy days, which stressed him out and usually caused more stress throughout the week. I just... I just wished his rituals involved less running around and waiting on us. I wished his ritual involved a lay in, a relaxing shower, and having a nice breakfast cooked _for_ him.

"Morning." I hid my useless worry behind a smile, sitting down next to Buzz at the table, "Enjoying that kiddo?" I used his bib to wipe some of the milk off his face. In turn, Buzz smiled cutely at me, waving his spoon like it was the most fantastic thing he had ever seen.

"Breakfast is nearly ready." Tom answered, as always, dishing up quickly and placing the plate in front of me. I had stopped asking if I could help, as I was always told that it was fine, so I had learnt to leave it alone. Better to let Tom know that help was offered, but leave him alone, than mess with his head. His head was already all over the place, he didn't need me poking him on top of that.

Harry and Dougie soon strolled in, seating themselves opposite to me, receiving their breakfast just as quick as I had. Only then, did Tom actually sit down, making a token effort to finish his own breakfast. He managed half of it, which wasn't too bad, wiped Buzz down, and set off to do his usual morning jobs. Washing the dishes, cleaning down the kitchen, and hoovering the whole of downstairs, by which point it was time to leave.

"Tom, it's time to go." I told him, as he finished packing his bag for Buzz, slinging it over his shoulder and carrying his son out to the car. Buzz was quite happy in his carrier, sitting happily and playing with the toy in his hand, pointing out the cars as they went past.

He truly was a wonderful child, and I could see so much of the old Tom in him. Those brown eyes were fascinated and playful, full of life and intelligence. Tom used to have the same eyes, the same level of wonder in them. I wished he still had it. But sadly all the wonder was gone, the life dulled, all that was left was a tightness around his eyes thanks to stress.

I'd take it away if I could, wished I could take it all away, but I couldn't. I wished, more than anything that I could.

Soon, the psychiatrist building loomed ahead, large and intimidating. I wished it wasn't, but it was actually terrifying to sit there and look up at it. Even though Tom had been here before, Dougie too, it still gave me chills. I remembered all too well what it was like when Dougie stayed in this building when he was ill, the thought of Tom getting that bad, of Natasha deciding that he couldn't come home, was terrifying.

I couldn't think of that though, I had to believe that things would be okay, that Tom was able to manage outside of this place. He wouldn't need to put inside and kept here, separated from us, his home, and his son. God, what if they decided to separated Tom from Buzz? They couldn't... it wasn't... they _couldn't_ do that. They just couldn't. The world had been cruel enough to Tom as it was, they couldn't make that worse.


	109. Chapter 109

106 Danny's POV

Waking up in the morning, I showered and dressed, heading downstairs to find Tom and Buzz already in the kitchen. Buzz was eating his cereal, mostly managing to make a mess of milk over his face and his high chair. Tom was cooking a full fry up breakfast, the bacon sizzling deliciously in the pan, though it didn't really appeal to me right now. I'd learnt to associate fry ups with therapy days, as Tom always made it before his appointment, almost like he was trying to give us a treat, or maybe give us something 'nice' on a stressful day.

I half wished he didn't do it, so he had a little time to himself, but he _insisted,_ and if it was part of his little ritual, and it kept him calm, I wasn't going to argue over it. Tom was perfectly entitled to whatever ritual that made him feel better, especially on therapy days, which stressed him out and usually caused more stress throughout the week. I just... I just wished his rituals involved less running around and waiting on us. I wished his ritual involved a lay in, a relaxing shower, and having a nice breakfast cooked _for_ him.

"Morning." I hid my useless worry behind a smile, sitting down next to Buzz at the table, "Enjoying that kiddo?" I used his bib to wipe some of the milk off his face. In turn, Buzz smiled cutely at me, waving his spoon like it was the most fantastic thing he had ever seen.

"Breakfast is nearly ready." Tom answered, as always, dishing up quickly and placing the plate in front of me. I had stopped asking if I could help, as I was always told that it was fine, so I had learnt to leave it alone. Better to let Tom know that help was offered, but leave him alone, than mess with his head. His head was already all over the place, he didn't need me poking him on top of that.

Harry and Dougie soon strolled in, seating themselves opposite to me, receiving their breakfast just as quick as I had. Only then, did Tom actually sit down, making a token effort to finish his own breakfast. He managed half of it, which wasn't too bad, wiped Buzz down, and set off to do his usual morning jobs. Washing the dishes, cleaning down the kitchen, and hoovering the whole of downstairs, by which point it was time to leave.

"Tom, it's time to go." I told him, as he finished packing his bag for Buzz, slinging it over his shoulder and carrying his son out to the car. Buzz was quite happy in his carrier, sitting happily and playing with the toy in his hand, pointing out the cars as they went past.

He truly was a wonderful child, and I could see so much of the old Tom in him. Those brown eyes were fascinated and playful, full of life and intelligence. Tom used to have the same eyes, the same level of wonder in them. I wished he still had it. But sadly all the wonder was gone, the life dulled, all that was left was a tightness around his eyes thanks to stress.

I'd take it away if I could, wished I could take it all away, but I couldn't. I wished, more than anything that I could.

Soon, the psychiatrist building loomed ahead, large and intimidating. I wished it wasn't, but it was actually terrifying to sit there and look up at it. Even though Tom had been here before, Dougie too, it still gave me chills. I remembered all too well what it was like when Dougie stayed in this building when he was ill, the thought of Tom getting that bad, of Natasha deciding that he couldn't come home, was terrifying.

I couldn't think of that though, I had to believe that things would be okay, that Tom was able to manage outside of this place. He wouldn't need to put inside and kept here, separated from us, his home, and his son. God, what if they decided to separated Tom from Buzz? They couldn't... it wasn't... they _couldn't_ do that. They just couldn't. The world had been cruel enough to Tom as it was, they couldn't make that worse.


	110. Chapter 110

107 Tom's POV

Natasha opened our session by getting straight to the point, asking me about how my attempt at doing something for myself worked out. I actually felt myself pale at the thought of talking about it, I hadn't wanted to, never wanted to speak of the mistake ever again. It was embarrassing, and stupid. I had done so much wrong, had completely screwed up, I didn't want to talk about it now, not ever if I could help it. I didn't like talking about mistakes.

"It went... I didn't enjoy myself." I answered, trying desperately not to fidget. My wife said I looked ridiculous when I fidgeted. Ridiculous and guilty. The last thing I wanted to be was guilty.

"Oh no, why not?" Natasha asked, kindly, but with a tone that said that she wanted answers.

"I... it didn't feel right." Stupid plan, stupid mistake, horrendous idea.

"Alright, well it's okay for it to not feel okay, why didn't it feel right?" Natasha pressed on, I wished she would ask something else, talk about something else, _anything_ else. I wanted to talk about a different subject, something different, something that wasn't about me and my stupid plans.

"It was... it was a stupid idea. And a stupid thing to do." I explained, pulling my sleeves over my hands, knowing it made me look guilty, but unable to help it. Sleeves over my hands felt safe. Or at least, more covered up. I wanted to be covered from the scrutiny.

"Why's that?" she continued, prodding and prodding until I talked about it properly, just like always. Couldn't I avoid anything, just for once?!

"It was... I didn't like it. I didn't... it felt fanciful. Like I was doing something just for myself." I hadn't... I couldn't remember the last time I had acted on my own wishes, "It wasn't productive, didn't benefit anyone else, only made myself and Buzz look stupid. We looked ridiculous, dressed identically like... like some... it was a mistake." I steadfastly kept my feet on the floor, not on the sofa. I was not going to curl into a ball like a child. I was not a child, and certainly wasn't pathetic enough to hold myself like that.

"Okay, I guess that makes sense. But Tom, hadn't you thought of doing that for years? You told me that you had imagined it for a long time." Natasha questioned.

"Ever since I found out that we were having a little boy." I'd dreamed about it sometimes. It had... I'd always imagined that it would be cute, strengthen our bond as father and son, feel like we were a unit. Instead, it had felt wrong on every level. I wished I could take it back and change it, do something else, something productive, less silly.

"Then I'm very sorry that it didn't feel as good as you wished it would. I had hoped that it would, but I suspected that something like this would have a bad effect on you." Natasha sighed sadly, "But that doesn't mean that everything you want to do will feel as bad as that did." She couldn't... she wanted to try _again? S_ he wanted me to do something else, to act on more of my own stupid little fantasies of happy families? She wanted me to do something for myself, after everything that had happened?

Did she want everything to fall apart? It felt like she did! I didn't want everything to fall apart, I wanted everything to carry on like it should have been! I didn't want to rock the boat further, I was safe as I was, going about normally, without any extra curricular activities, or anything that could possibly be seen as me being anything but the husband my wife had always wanted.

"But Tom, what she wanted was wrong. She wanted a slave, not you, as a whole person. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be a good husband, but what she wanted was too much." Natasha reminded me again, but it still didn't feel right, none of it felt _right._ Everything felt wrong, like I was breaking so many rules, that it would bring down every level of hell imaginable on my head. I couldn't stand the thought, couldn't stand the idea that I'd break every rule in our arsenal and ruin the life I had built.

"I know it's hard, but it's so important to realise that she was wrong. She was wrong on every level, she wanted to use you, and made sure you were treated horribly, so she could manipulate you to bend to her ridiculous rules. That's not a life, that's not a marriage either. It's abuse, and it can wreck a person." Natasha explained, standing up to sit next to me, "You have to believe me when I say that this is not normal, and while it's hard, it's so important that you try to regain who you are. If you carry on like this, you'll miss out on so many important things."

"Like what?" I was there, it wasn't like I missed out on much.

"You'll miss out on having proper friendships, on everything you used to enjoy, and you'll miss out on raising Buzz. You want to raise your son, don't you?" Natasha made me nod, I wanted that, more than anything, "Then you need to help yourself here. Hiding won't do anything but make sure that you're only ever on the sidelines of his life. By taking the risks, learning to enjoy yourself again, you can relax, spend more time with him, really become his father, instead of sitting on the edge of his life. You can be everything you want to be with him, with your friends, with your _life,_ you just have to take the risk."


	111. Chapter 111

108 Harry's POV

Danny took it upon himself to entertain Buzz as Tom had his therapy session, running around the courtyard with the toddler, shouting something about a tickle monster. Dougie and I decided to sit at a bench instead, well, I decided, because Dougie didn't seem all too comfortable today. I couldn't put my finger on why, but he was really uncomfortable being here today, hand squeezing mine tightly, like he really couldn't stand the thought of letting go.

"You alright?" I asked, rubbing his arm with my spare hand.

"Yeah, yeah fine," Dougie attempted to lie, before hesitating, "No, not really."

"Thought you weren't, what's up? Has something happened?" I asked, I couldn't think of anything to cause this mood specifically. Nothing out of routine had happened this morning, or last night. It wasn't an anniversary of anything bad happening either, so this didn't really make much sense. Not to me, at least.

"Nothings happened, I'm just... I'm remembering some bad days." Dougie sighed, glancing around, "The corridors, this courtyard, it's all... the memories aren't that nice." I understood immediately.

Natasha worked in the same complex as Dougie's therapist, just a short walk away from the accommodation wing. The place Dougie had stayed for a month when he... when he wasn't well. We hadn't walked through the same building, hadn't even really seen it, but we were in the same place, walking through similar buildings, sitting in the guest courtyard, which was nearly identical to the one for patients, hidden just behind the building on our right. Of course being here would bring back memories, being back here repeatedly must have been awful.

"I, I didn't realise, I'm sorry." I hadn't thought, hadn't even factored this into anything. I should have realised, this building gave me the same unpleasant feeling I had back then, why wouldn't it do the same to Dougie? Especially when he had lived here for a month, and gone through months of therapy here afterwards. Of course coming back so often would cause problems!

"It's alright, it's for a good cause in the end." Dougie sighed, looking up to the building in front of us, the one Tom was currently inside, "It's just memories for me, I did my time, and I'm fine now."

"Still doesn't mean you're not allowed to feel a bit down." I always tried to validate Dougie's feelings, knowing how much he downplayed them, acting like everything was fine, when inside his head, it was a storm of emotion.

"I know. It's just difficult, to remember everything that happened, and to think of what Tom's going through." Dougie looked at me at last, before tucking his head into my neck, "It's... hard. Knowing he's in pain, and remembering how much pain I was in when I was here."

"I understand, but you got better, didn't you? You got better, and moved on, and wonderful things happened to you afterwards." I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, kissing his cheek, "We got our own place, we went on several awesome tours, wrote some awesome music, we got married," I pressed a longer kiss to his temple.

"Went on honeymoon." Dougie smiled, "Warped Tour, all the dates, all across America."

"Most fun I've ever had in a field." I couldn't help but smile too, remembering the mud, camping out for weeks on end, traveling around, following the tour and systematically watching every single band on the line up at least once, if not twice, it had been an amazing few weeks.

"We did all that, and so much more, and you got to fully enjoy it because you got better, because of this place." I traced a hand over his arm, "So maybe, we should think of this place as a stepping point. It helped us get all that, and who knows what else in the future? And so will Tom, because the people here will help him."

Buzz suddenly let out a loud scream, we turned to see Danny picking the child up, holding him upside down, spinning the two of them round in circles as Buzz laughed hysterically. It was adorable, looked exactly like a father and son playing, how things should have been.

"And Tom will get to do that, he'll be able to do all that and more himself, when he gets better, with everyone's help. He'll get his life back, like you got your life back." I promised, imagining Tom running around the garden, the park, a hundred other places, with Buzz, being a father, a proper father. Not a glorified slave, but a father, best friend, hell, maybe even a lover to someone again.

"This place is worth it, even when it sucks." Dougie agreed, smiling at our friend and adoptive nephew.

"That it is. I know I'll never be able to thank them enough for getting you back to me." all those lost years, filled with pain and fear, which I had known nothing about, we could never get them back. But because of the therapists here, we got to have the rest of our lives together, so it was worth the uncomfortable feeling in my mind. They gave me back the love of my life, and I would never be able to repay them for that.

It would all be worth it, uncomfortable and scared feeling aside, this would all be worth it in the end.


	112. Chapter 112

109 Dougie's POV

Despite Harry's reassurances, I could not bring myself to relax in this courtyard. I tried, honestly tried, but I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable here. I always would, really. After everything that had happened in this facility, how could I not?

But, I had to remind myself that it was a good place. A good place that helped people. This place helped me to get my life back. I wouldn't even be here if I hadn't come here. They'd do the same for Tom, they'd fix him right up and he'd be right as rain. It would take time, because it always took time, but they would fix him, just like they did for me.

"Dada!" Buzz's call snapped me from my thoughts, I looked up to see Tom walking across the yard. Automatically, he picked Buzz up, bringing him close to his chest in a tight hold.

"Hey, ready to go?" Danny smiled, coming over too.

"Erm," Tom glanced at Natasha nervously.

"It's okay, you can tell them." She encouraged him... that didn't sound good.

"I'm going to wait in the car, but Natasha needs to talk to you quickly before we leave." Tom whispered, fidgeting nervously and refusing to look at us. but, he was trying, that was the main point. As long as he kept trying, kept learning, it didn't matter. Break downs and everything else were fine, we could handle that, as long as Tom tried.

"Yeah, alright. We'll be right along soon then." Harry nodded, Tom scurrying off with his son.

"Is something wrong?" Danny asked as soon as Tom was out of ear shot.

"Not at all. But Tom and I discussed his needs and the best course of action in our session, and he wanted me to talk to you about how you can support him in this. obviously, you know how Tom is struggling, you've had a front row seat to it all, and he wants to better. He really wants to get back to who he was before, but he's struggling a lot with anxiety and ingrained responses." Natasha was saying it incredibly sympathetically, which was therapist speech for 'please don't freak out,' I hated that tone.

"Whatever he needs us to do, we'll do, no matter what it is, we'll help in any way we can." Harry promised, we would, we would do anything. Tom was my best friend, I'd do anything. anything at all that could possibly make him comfortable. He'd been so good to me when I was struggling, had been so supportive, I wanted to do the same for him.

"Of course, but Tom struggles to believe that. not because of anything you've done, you've been doing admirably well, considering the situation. It's all to do with Tom's brain, and his learnt responses. His wife has essentially trained him to avoid any leisure activity, to stay away from Buzz, and basically just do whatever she ordered him to do. everything else fell by the wayside, and if he did try to do something he wanted to do, it would have ended badly for him. abusers don't like their victims to be disobedient, and she would have probably punished him somehow." I really didn't like the sound of that.

"Punish how?" Danny whispered, chewing another nail.

"A number of ways, but Tom has repeatedly assured me that it was never violent, which is a positive in the situation. But classic punishment techniques include withholding affection, so ignoring him, making him sleep in another room, or possibly the sofa, she could have shouted at him, belittled his interests, insulted him in general. Things like this are very common, and can really affect the mind, force a person to obey their abuser for an easy life. It can be hard to change that, to learn that somebody else isn't going to do the same thing to you." Natasha explained.

"Really, the only thing you can do is support him, and show him that you're not going to attack him for his actions. It's hard to do, and it will take time, and will end in a lot of panic attacks, but slowly, he will learn that he is safe." She finished, still looking at us sympathetically, like we had a harder job than her in this. we probably did, thinking about it.

"How do we support him?" I asked, wanting to know. Everyone's version of support was different, we had to be sure to look after Tom properly.

"Maybe take over a job he usually does while he's doing a fun activity, or join in with him when he asks for it. to me though, I think the best thing to do is to start small with him, frame leisure activities as being productive. Writing songs is a good one for that, as it can also help him express emotion and thoughts. But, with that, I would say, do not push him into it, or anything else. Let him decide for himself, and let him figure out what he wants. If he can't write, or be creative, then that's not a problem, as he's out of practice. The key is encouragement, but making sure he knows that he's safe."


	113. Chapter 113

111 Danny's POV

There was a change in Tom after that session, not a big one, by most people's standards, but a _huge_ change to anyone who had seen him recently.

After that session, Tom really started to _try_ again. He didn't start with big things, or even anything that lasted more than a minute, but he was starting to do things. Small things, tiny things, but they were things nonetheless, and things that were very big steps in his world.

You see, Tom started being more affectionate with Buzz after that session. He didn't play more games with the baby, or join in much with him, but he definitely made an effort into showing him more affection. As he passed, Tom would reach down and briefly ruffle Buzz's hair, or give him a quick tickle. At times, he'd pause, and bend down to give his son a hug. It was little things like that starting cropping up, not often, but on occasion, when Tom was feeling brave.

Each time he did it, I could see the tension on his body, saw him flick his eyes around the room, assessing the danger of his actions. None of us ever stopped him, we wouldn't _dare_ stop him, didn't even dare to act surprised at his actions. Tom was doing something _amazing,_ but the trick was to act like it was nothing at all, not draw attention to it. The only thing I personally did that could be seen as encouragement was give Tom a smile if he looked my way, to show him that I was proud of him, that he was doing well. It didn't seem to calm his nerves that much, but, I could tell he was getting used to it.

And, Buzz himself was _loving_ the attention. The boy seemed as if he had been starved of attention for far too long, and was now drinking it all in. After one of Tom's affectionate moments, Buzz always perked up more than usual, looking up at us in wonder, as if to ask if we had seen it too. He even started his own round of encouragement, by giving Tom a kiss every time he got a hug. The look on Tom's face the first that happened had been _priceless,_ one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

Father and son seemed to be getting closer because of the attention, creating more of a bond than they'd ever had before. It was beautiful to watch, seeing it expand and grow so quickly, from just a few small touches. Who knew that a few small things like that could make such a difference?

"Touch makes you feel less alone in the world." Dougie commented, as we were talking about it one evening, after the Fletcher's had gone to bed.

"Always helps you, when you're upset." Harry smiled at his husband, squeezing his hand.

"Seems to help Tom too." I glanced at the monitor, seeing Buzz fast asleep in his crib, Tom leaning against it, looking at his son lovingly. He'd taken to that too, seemingly taking his son in properly, like it was for the first time he had ever seen him. I guess, in some ways, it was. Tom had never been allowed near Buzz before, and now that he was managing to spend some time with him, he was taking the chance to really take in his child.

"Maybe we should try touching him a bit more, to show him that we love him too." Dougie suggested, "He's sort of isolated with just Buzz right now, maybe he'll open up a bit if we show him affection." That sounded like a good idea, showing Tom that he wasn't isolated from us, that we were there for him too. Maybe we could gain a bit of trust from him by doing that... or at the very least comfort him and show him that he wasn't alone.

"Good plan, but we'd have to be careful with it, in case we freak him out." Harry had a point, too much, too soon, could have worse affects than not trying at all.

"We could start small, touch him in passing, like he does Buzz. Or something like that." I suggested, I wanted to reach out and hug him more than anything, but it wasn't possible. If I could give Tom some physical comfort some other way, I was all for it.


	114. Chapter 114

112 Harry's POV

From the next day, we set to work, though very carefully at the same time. Meaning that we didn't run straight at Tom, grabbing him into a hug, or getting too close into his personal space. Instead, we chose to touch him gently as we moved past him, leant on him as we reached for things, rested a hand on his shoulder or arm as we had a conversation. Simple stuff like that, innocent, no way could be construed as malicious, touches that were given freely between friends all the time.

"Good morning Tom!" Danny started first thing, his hand squeezing Tom's shoulder as we walked into the kitchen, big smile on his face.

"Morning." Tom managed to whisper back, flashing a smile.

"Sleep well?" I asked, we had also agreed to try including Tom in conversation more. At least, try to ask him simple questions, ones that could evolve into a conversation, but also could be answered in short sentences if needs be. It was all about building Tom's confidence, and while he was doing great with Buzz, it was also good to get him used to talking to us too.

"Fine, I slept fine." Tom answered, bettered than his usual 'fine' of a morning.

"This one finally let you sleep then?" Dougie laughed, letting Buzz tug on his fingers.

"Buzz slept until six." Tom smiled as his son giggled innocently, full of the kind of joy only babies really had. He seemed to be more joyful recently, come to think of it. Probably thanks to all the attention he was getting from his dad, it was _long_ overdue.

"That's great! Maybe the teething is slowing down." Danny piled some bacon and eggs onto his plate, "And won't that be nice, all those nasty teeth stopping hurting?" he asked the baby, who babbled a bit, a few actual words coming out too, despite them not making much sense in context.

"Hopefully." Tom agreed, it was more than he'd said in a single conversation in a long time. We'd only been touching him for a few days, but he was already relaxing a bit. It was incredible to see exactly what some simple touches could do to a person.

"Well he's got nearly all his teeth now, so that should be something that'll calm down soon." That would be a huge help to Tom too, if he could sleep more than a few hours a night without Buzz sobbing his heart out in pain. At least that would give him at least some chance to relax, even marginally.

"That'll be nice, won't it, little one?" Dougie tickled Buzz's foot, before grabbing his own breakfast plate. In response, Buzz pushed his bottle off the side of his high chair, luckily nothing spilled.

"Well, that won't change." I laughed, kids would always be kids, and that meant messy.

"At least it wasn't food." Danny replied through a mouthful, "Did you do something different with the bacon? It tastes better than usual." He'd also taken to giving subtle compliments when he could.

"I did the same as usual." Tom shifted in his seat self-consciously.

"Weird, well, it tastes good, either way." Danny shrugged it off nonchalantly, Tom blushed in response.

"Food is exclusively for his hair and face." Dougie changed the subject back, nodding towards Buzz's stained bib, though he was currently food-mush free on his face.

"And clothes." Tom joined in, it was almost normal, but there was a definite edge to his voice. He wasn't entirely comfortable talking, let alone joking. But he was trying, and that was the main point. He was relaxing around us, and _trying._

"Of course, we could never forget the mess he can make on his clothes." Danny squeezed Tom's shoulder again, Tom's head whipped round to look at him, fear flashing across his eyes, before he relaxed again. He even managed to flash another smile, even though he did pull his sleeves down over his hands at the same time.

"Kids will be kids." I summarised.

"At least they're cute, to make up for it." Danny lifted Buzz out of his high chair, "And this one is _especially_ cute, aren't you? Yes you are, you adorable baby!" he kissed Buzz's cheek, spinning him in a circle, the boy crying out with laughter.


	115. Chapter 115

113 Dougie's POV

As our campaign to give Tom some physical affection continued, he seemed to relax and open up, little by little. Never by much, nothing hugely note-worthy, but he did start to open up in pieces. He answered a few more of our questions, allowed himself to join in with a joke, hell sometimes he even _laughed_ with us. He _laughed,_ didn't just flash a smile that never reached his eyes, he _laughed,_ like he should have been all along.

The first time Tom laughed, I nearly teared up, unable to believe that he was finally laughing again. It had been something so simple, just Buzz laughing at a face Danny was pulling at him, but Tom _laughed with him,_ he joined in with it. He allowed himself to be happy, for just those few seconds, he allowed himself a small piece of happiness. I couldn't believe it, watching a small piece of life come back to Tom, seeing him look genuinely happy, it was like it raining after being in the desert for too long. Like coming up for air after being underwater for too long. Like seeing colour in a world of black and white.

I knew that feeling well, knew what it felt like it finally feel that smallest bit of happiness again, feeling comfortable enough to show that happiness. It was huge, and while it was such a simple thing to the rest of the world, I knew that it would be a huge shift to Tom. He'd realise that there was light now, that there was a chance of getting back to normal, that he could be better again. It was a monumental realisation, one that took a long time to come to terms with. But he'd do it, he'd always do it, with ours and Natasha's help, he'd manage it.

"It gets easier, you know." I told him just hours later, when I saw the frown lines across his forehead, the look of deep thoughts on his face.

"Huh?" Tom looked up at me, before looking away again, hands fiddling with the duster he'd been semi-using.

"It gets easier. With the laughter and everything, it gets easier." I answered, unsure on how else to put it. I wanted to reassure him that even though it felt weird now, it did get simpler, and it did start to feel good again. That I understood that he felt weird now, like he'd done something wrong, even when at the time it had felt so right.

"I, I know." Tom stuttered out, while more confident with actually replying, he still seemed hesitant, like his contributions to conversation were going to get him in trouble.

"It just feels weird right now, doesn't it? Like you've done wrong, even though it felt right at the time." I leant against the wall, doing my best to look as unthreatening as possible. I wasn't a particularly scary looking person, too weedy and short for that, but the thought counted, when it came to Tom.

Tom looked hesitant to answer, his face showing that he was chewing over potential replies to that.

"It's fine to feel that way, you know. You've spent a long time being sad, beating down everything and ignoring it. Feeling something again does start to feel wrong." I squeezed his arm, "It's okay to feel it, it's not wrong or anything. It's all a learning curve, just like everything else. But, if you ever want to talk about it, or if you need some support, I'm here, and I understand more than most, alright?" I wanted him to know that, that I was here if he needed me. This whole thing was so tough to understand, and incredibly difficult to go through, sometimes a therapist wasn't enough. Sometimes you needed someone who had gone through something similar to listen and support you.

"Thank you." Tom whispered, looking genuinely surprised by that.

"Any time, you know that." I smiled, "This whole thing is very confusing and weird to deal with, sometimes it helps to have someone around you who can listen and get it, you know?" it's what we had always done, ever since I had gotten out of rehab. Tom and I had had therapists, and all the support in the world from Danny, Harry and our families, but sometimes, we'd just needed each other. We had similar experiences with our depressive episodes, had had similar thoughts and feelings, had gone through the therapy cycle. No-one else understood that, and it had really helped to just talk to each other. Or ask simple questions like 'did you do this too?' and get confirmation that you weren't the only one with that particular habit.

It all just _helped,_ and while I knew absolutely nothing about abusive relationships, or parenting, I knew what it was like trying to recover after having so much taken away, to learn who you were again. I could help with that, I _knew_ I could help with that.


End file.
